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DIAGRAM  OF  THE  THIRD  PLANTATION. 

Interestms;  localities  designated  by  the  figureP:     i.    Old  Burying 
Ground,  page  231. — 2.  Old  Tunnel  Meeting  House,  page  283. — ^' 
3.  Anchor  Tavern,  page  401. — 4.  Pirates' Glen,  page  410. — 
5.  Dungeon  Rock,  page  427. — 6.  Pines  Point,  page  445. 

The  Localities  are  spokc7i  of  in  the  pages  referred  to. 


LIN 


OB. 


J    E    T^   E    L    S 


THIRD    PLANTATION. 


•'  I  loue  of  worthies  gone  to  tell  ; 
their  virtues  to  discuss  ; 
For  they  that  fought  life's  battels  wdl, 
ensamples  are  for  vs." 


SECOND  EDITION :  ENLARGED. 


BOSTON: 

D.    C.    C  O  LE  S  W  O  RTH  Y. 

LYNN: 

SILAS    A.    BARTON. 
1880. 


U3RARY 

u  .iVElTiy"  F 


ft: 


1  .■ .  t 


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fl 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year   1879,  by 

James  R.  Nevvhall, 

in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


I'REFA.CE. 


The  first  edition  of  this  work  appeared  in  1862,  and  the  author  had 
abundant  reason  to  be  satisfied  witli  the  kind  manner  in  which  it  was 
received.  It  has  now  been  "  out  of  print "  for  some  years,  and  the  time 
seems  to  have  arrived  when  a  new  and  enlarged  edition  would  not  be 
deemed  a  literary  obtrusion.  The  original  work  was  embraced  in  just 
four  hundred  pages.  To  this  edition  a  hundred  pages  have  been  added 
under  the  title  of  "THE  ANCHOR  TAVERN."  And  this  addition 
is  distinguished  by  a  style  of  type  somewhat  different  from  the  original 
pages.  A  few  explanatory  passages  from  the  preface  of  the  first  edition 
may  properly  be  introduced  here. 

A  leading  purpose  of  this  volume  is  to  illustrate,  in  a  somewhat  lively 
way,  the  character  of  the  People,  and  the  condition  of  Things,  during  a 
most  interesting  period  of  our  history.  Divers  remarkable  personages 
and  occurrences,  strangely  overlooked  by  others,  receive  due  attention. 
And  such  wayside  reflections  are  interspersed  as  it  is  hoped  may,  at  least 
here  and  there,  prove  good  seed  sown  in  good  ground. 

The  Actors  and  Scenes  are  to  a  degree  local.  But  we  have  endeivored 
to  treat  them  in  such  a  manner  that  they  will,  for  that  very  reason, 
be  the  more  acceptable  to  the  general  reader.  One  is  always  most 
interested  in  a  narrative  when  he  can  point  the  finger  and  say  —  It  was 
right  there  that  the  thing  happened. 

We  are  aware  that  the  style  will  appear  rather  episodical ;  and  arc  also 
aware  that  it  is  a  dangerous  style  to  venture  upon.  But  the  plan  seemed 
to  demand  that  it  should  be  adopted. 

Slight  circumstances  often  suggest  important  schemes.  And  it  is  be- 
coming to  acknowledge  that  a  casual  remark  of  the  Ancient  Bookseller  of 
Nassau  street  —  whose  dusty  stall  and  obliging  manners  so  often  staid  the 
author's  youthful  steps,  whose  judgment  of  books  was  so  penetrating  that 
he  discerned  their  value  by  their  binding,  whose  modesty  was  so  intense 
that  he  wrote  the  first  person  singular  with  a  little  i,  and  who  descended 
from  one  of  the  brightest  Jewels  of  the  Third  Plantation  —  proved  so 

(iii) 


IV 


PJREFACE. 


influential  in  inducing  the  present  attempt,  that  it  might,  perhaps,  be 
proper  even  to  dedicate  the  work  to  him. 

The  author,  during  several  years  of  his  early  life,  wielded  the  printer's 
"stick,"  and  has  ever,  in  after  years,  while  pursuing  what  is  called  a 
"profession,"  retained  agreeable  recollections  of  the  printing  office, 
insomuch  that  he  has  long  kept  a  font  or  two  of  type,  in  a  cozy  back 
room,  to  which  he  could  resort  at  a  vacant  hour  for  that  semi-intellectual 
entertainment  which  is  so  agreeable.  A  good  portion  of  the  volume  was 
never  written ;  but  with  memoranda  and  sketches  lying  on  the  "  upper 
case,"  the  author  proceeded  to  compose  sentences  and  types  at  the  same 
time.  And  could  he  be  assured  that  the  reader  would,  in  the  perusal, 
find  a  few  of  his  leisure  hours  as  pleasantly  occupied,  he  would  be  more 
than  pleased  —  without,  however,  overlooking  the  fact  that  in  this  scram- 
bling world  pecuniary  recompense  is  seldom  to  be  disdained. 


Egg  Rock.     See  Diagram. 


i:n  dex. 


Adventures  and  Discoveries,  58,  66. 
Anchor  Tavern,  401  to  495. 
Anderson,  Julia,  tragic  fate  of,  109. 
Anointing  of  Obadiuh  Turner,  479, 
A;>parition  in  Old  Tunnel,  3S6. 
Armitage,  Deborah,  herb  seller,  239. 
Armitagc,  landlord,  40O,  472. 
Arthur  and  Haroldine,  131. 
Assaults.    Of  David,  Indian,  on  Joel 

Dunn,    444.      Of  David    on    Dr. 

Read.  472.     Mysterious,  352.  Of 

Edward  Randolph  on  Oliver  Pur- 

chis,  172. 
Autumn  foliage,  328. 


13. 


Bachelor,  Rev.  Mr., first  minister,  64. 

Ballard,  Abel,  his  adventures,   103. 

Banquet,  Old  Tunnel  dedication, 285. 

Banquet  on  fiftieth  Anniversary,  464. 

Bears,  405,  463,  4S3. 

Bees,  attempt  at  raising,  148. 

Bonfires,  462,  467. 

Boudinot,  Mr.,  the  Huguenot,  310. 

Bowlegs  (Joel  Dunn,)  413. 

Burial  of  a  suicide,  278. 

Burial,  a  premature,  275. 

Burying  Ground,  the  Old,  231  to  282. 


C. 


Celebration  of  Fiftieth  Anniversa- 
ry, 462  to  495. 

Celestial  phenomena,  67,  79,  88. 

Characteristics  of  settlers,  41,  392. 

Charming,  snake,  430. 

Choir,  Old  Tunnel,  359,  389. 

Christmas,  prosecution  for  observ- 
ing, 82. 

Cider,  469,  479. 


Cobbet,  Rev.  Thomas,  80. 
Coins,  first  American,  77. 
College  student,  punishment  of,  371. 
Comet,  great,  88. 
Commencement  of  Plantation,  23. 
Conrad,  the  enthusiast,  485. 
Cora  Reddan  and  her  lover,  382. 
Cow,  Mr.  Kertland's,  220. 
Cues.     Dr.  Read's,  470,  472.     Dr. 

Tyndale'.s,  337. 
Cure,  remarkable,  338. 


D. 


Dancing,  294,  485. 

David  Kunkshamooshaw  (Indian,) 

442  ;  at  celebration,  467  to  4S0. 
Davis,  jolly  John,  at  celebration,  4S0. 
Dedication  of  Old  Tunnel  Meeting 

House,  283. 
Devil,  old  belief  in  the,  56,  63,  75, 

103,  196. 
Dexter,    Thomas,  —  biographical 

sketch  of,  187  to  216. 
Dinners,  public,  285,  464. 
Discoveries  and  adventures,  58,  66. 
Dress,  extravagant,  prohibited,  425. 
Ducking  of  Gooddy  Baker,  77. 
Dungeon  Rock,  82,  427  to  442. 
Dunn,  Joel,  a  tramp,  413  to  426  ; 

his  terrible    night  in  the   woods, 

430  ;  his  strange  death,  452. 

E. 

Early  settlers,  traits  of  the,  40,  392. 
Earthquake,  effect  of,   at  Dungeon 

Rock,  82,  438. 
Eeling  expedition,  303. 
Egg  Rock,  103  194. 
Enthusiast,  Conrad,  the,  485. 
Excursions  for  discovery,  57,  66. 
E.xplosion  of  Dr.  Tyndale's  cue,  337. 


(V) 


VI 


INDEX. 


Familiar  spirit,  Mrs. Hawkins's,  460. 

Farmer's  home,  in  olden  time,  144. 

Fiftieth  Anniversary  of  the  first  set- 
tlement, celebration  of,  462  to  495. 

Fifty  years,  the  first,  of  the  Planta- 
tion, 85,  462. 

First  habitation,  erection  of,  ;^^. 

First  minister,  64. 

First  settlers,  character  of,  40,  392. 

Footprints  in  rocks,  66,  75,  103. 

Freemen,  how  made,  115. 

Funerals,  doings  at,  80,  279,  490. 

G. 

Geese,  320,  384,  483. 

Ghost  in  Old  Tunnel,  387. 

Gipsys,  71. 

Glen,  Pirates',  410. 

Goff,  the  regicide,  in  Lynn,  177. 

Graves,  Daniel,  and  little  girl,  387. 

Guatolf,  the  apostate  Jew,  271. 


PI. 


Habitation,  first  in  the  Plantation,33. 

Haroldine  and  Arthur,  131. 

Hart,  Zachariaii, —  biographical 
sketch  of,  19  to  50. 

Harvard  college,  punishment  in,  371. 

Hawkins,  Jane,  an  antinomian,  458. 

Plornets,  attack  of  on  Mr.  Hart,  26. 

Huguenots.  308. 

Humphrey,  Nora,  her  touching  sto- 
ry, indiscretion,  and  sad  fate,  362. 

Humphrey,  Verna,  the  strange  vi- 
cissitudes of  her  life,  247  to  270. 

Hunter,  public,  chosen,  70. 

Hutchinson,  Mrs.,  and  her  teach- 
ings, 39,  459. 


I. 


Indian  characteristics,  68,  95,  468. 
Indian  land  tenures,  91,  468. 
Indian  pets,  463. 
Indian  summer,  329. 
Indian,  the  Old,  (tree)  443. 
Indians  at  celebration  of  fiftieth  an- 
niversary, 463,  464,  481,  485. 
Indians,  youthful,  78,  464,  48 1,  485. 
Introductory  remarks,  9,  229,  401. 
Iron  Works,  75. 


Jenks,  Dolly,  pleasant  story  of,  421. 
Jenks,  Joseph,  and  his  wife,  425. 
Jew,  Guatolf,  the  a]5ostate,  271. 
Journal  of  Obadiah  Turner,  57  to  go. 


Kektland,  Philip,  first  shoemaker 
in  the  Plantation,  217  to  228. 

Kiss,  story  of  a  hasty,  422. 

Knopp,  Nicholas  a  travelling  doctor, 
455.   He  doctors  the  governor,  456. 

Kunkshamooshaw,  David,  (Indian), 
442.     At  celebration,  467  to  480. 


L. 


Landlords  of  the  Anchor  Tavern, 

406  to  409. 
Land  tenures,  (Indian,)  91,  468. 
Lightning,    serious   effects    of,    105, 

276,  386,  482. 
Love  unrequited,  story  of,  362. 
Lynn,  name  of,  14,  88. 


M. 


Makepeace,  John,  and  his  strange 

sanitary  contrivance,  475. 
Marsh,  Joel  FJunn's  haying  on,  417. 
Marshall,  Captain,   landlord  of  the 

Anchor  Tavern,  407. 
Martin,  Josiah,  landlord  of  the  An- 

ch'or  Tavern,  408. 
Mather,  Cotton,  at  Old  Tunnel,  3S3. 
Mechanics'  wages  regulated,  60. 
Medical  practice  in  early  times,  455. 
Meeting  house.  Old  Tunnel,  89,  283 

to  400. 
Melrose,  Elizabeth,  her  premature 

burial,  275. 
Military  parades,  63,  312,  453,  463. 
Mill  established,  61. 
Money  Diggers,  446. 
Mudget,  Deacon,  his  lesson,  359. 
Music  in  Old  Tunnel,  3S9. 
Mysterious  assault,  352. 
Mysterious  stranger,  177. 

N. 

Nahant,  66,  103,  167,  197. 
Name  of  Lynn,  14,  88. 


INDEX. 


Vll 


Newhall,  Ephraim,  his  grave,  278. 

Nevvhall,  Jacob,  landlord  of  the  An- 
chor Tavern,  409. 

Newhall,  origin  of  the  name,  138. 

Newhall,  Thomas  — biographical 
sketch  of,  117  to  156. 

Newhall,  Thomas,  first  white  per- 
son born  in  the  Plantation,  479. 

Norwood,  widow,  landlady  of  the 
Anchor,  408. 

Norwood,  Zaccheus,  landlord  of  the 
Anchor,  408. 


O. 


Old  and  new  style,  55. 

Old  Burying  Ground,  231  to  2S2. 

Old  Indian,  (tree)  443. 

Oldpath,  Ezekiel,  teacher,  325. 

Old  Tunnel  Choir,  359,  389. 

Old  Tunnel  Meeting  House,  89, 

283  to  400. 
Orthography,  old  style,  54,  91. 


Pets,  Indian,  463. 

Pine  Tree  coins,  77. 

Pines  Point,  445. 

Pirates,  82,  411,  427,  451. 

Pirates'  Glen,  410. 

Plantation,  the  Third,  territorial  sit- 
uation and  beginning  of,  14,  23. 

Procession,  fiftieth  anniversary,  463. 

Pulpit  Rock,  105. 

Pumpkins,  David's  assault  with,  469. 

PuRCHis,  Oliver  —  biographical 
sketch  of,  157  to  186. 


Quakers,  laws  against,  83. 
R. 

Ramsdell,  Dame,  and  her  interest- 
ing son,  369. 

Randolph,  Edward,  his  wrong  do- 
ings and  disappointments,  1 59, 1 66. 

Rattlesnake, (Indian),  his  cruelty,  81. 

Read,  Dr.  Philip,  469  to  472. 

Reception  tomb,  scene  at,  275. 

Reddan,  Cora,  and  her  lover,  382. 

Reddan,  Francis,  his  eventful  life  and 
touching  death,  3  78. 


Review  of  fifty  years  progress,  85. 
Rhodes,  Aaron,  his  wonderful  cure, 

336. 
Rock,  Dungeon,  82,  427  to  442. 
Rock,  Egg,  103,  194. 
Rock,  Pulpit,  105. 


S. 


Salt  marsh,  haying  on,  417. 

Salt  works,  63. 

Sanitary  apparatus  invented  by  Mr. 

Makepeace,  475. 
Saugus  River,  195,  303. 
Scalding  of  Dr.  Read  by  David,  472. 
Scalping  of  Mr.  Laighton,  204. 
Sea-serpent,  68,  195. 
Serpents.     See  .Snakes. 
Sermons  of  olden  time,  373. 
Settlement,  beginning  of  the,  23. 
Settlers,  traits  of  the,  41,  392. 
Shoe  trade,  224. 

Singers  in  the  Old  Tunnel,  359  389. 
Skeletons  found,  65. 
Skunks,  59,  461. 
Sleepers  in  meeting,  70,  215. 
Sleigh  ride  in  summer,  408. 
Snakes,  3 1,  58,  68,  195,  367, 430, 464. 
Spelling  in  early  times,  54,  91. 
Spirit,  familiar,  Mrs.  Hawkins's,  460. 
Stocks,  70. 
Storms,  83,  431,  482. 
Stormy  and  cold  winters,  60,  83. 
Stranger,  mysterious,  177. 
Style,  old  and  new,  55. 
Suicide,  grave  of  a,  278. 
Summer,  Indian,  329. 
Summer  sleigh  ride,  408. 


Talisman,  David's,  477,  478. 

Tavern,  Anchor,  401  to  495. 

Tavern  scores,  old  time,  406. 

Teachers  of  youth,  31 S,  325, 330, 483. 

Third  Plantation,  its  territorial  loca- 
tion and  commencement,  14,  23. 

Tomb,  reception,  scene  at  the,  275. 

Tornado,  482. 

Trainings,  military,  63, 312, 453, 463. 

Tramps,  old  time,  414. 

Treason  of  Joseph  Jcnks,  421. 

Turnbody,  Alastcr,  31 8. 

Turner'  Obadiah  —  biographical 
sketch  and  journal,  51  to  116. 


Vlll 


INDEX. 


Turner,  Obadiah,  At  celebration 
of  the  fifiieth  anniversary,  477. 

At  Old  Tunnel  dedication  din- 
ner, 291. 

His  grave,  274, 

Tyndale,  Dr.  Jotham,  233- 

V. 

Vane,  Governor,  42 ;  his  visit,  45. 
Veal,  the  pirate,  82,  427  to  441. 
Verna  Humphrey,   touching  story 
of,  247. 


W. 

Wages  of  mechanics  regulated  by 

the  Court,  60. 

Whiting,  Rev.  Samuel,  86. 

At  celebration  of  fiftieth  anni- 
versary, 466. 

Biographical  sketch  of,  496. 

His  grave,  270. 

Wild  Geese,  320,  384. 

Witchcraft,  342  to  359,  470. 

Wonderful  cure,  336. 

Wood,  William,  his  book,  62. 


David   Kunkshamooshaw  and  Abigail  his 
wife. 


Cicely  alias  .Su  George. 


Mary  Ponham  alias  Quonopohit.     James  Quono- 
pohit,  husband  of  Mary,  signed  his  name  in  full. 


INDIAN    SIGNATURES    TO    THE    DEED    OF    RELEASE 
of  the  Plantation  Territory.     1686.     See  p.  442  ;  also  p.  468  et  seq. 


4 


F»A.RT    I. 

— — ♦ 

NOTABLE   PEOPLE 

OF 

OLDEN    TIME. 


*'  Roll  back  thou  mist    of  the  dark  brown  years  ! 
Unveil  the  paths  our  fathers  trod  ! 
We  will  lean  upon  their  mossy  tombs 
And  recount  their  noble  deeds  ! 
Then  shall  our  souls  be  nerved 
As  by  the  bracing  wind  of  the  North." 


INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS. 
It  is  the  duty  of  every  man,  while  sojourning  in 
this  unsatisfying  though  rather  interesting  world,  and 
beating  about  amid  its  perplexing  and  endearing  vicis- 
situdes, to  endeavor  something  for  the  benefit  of  his 
miserable  race.  And  every  man  intends  to  perform 
that  duty  at  some  time  before  his  chance  comes  for 
escape  hence.  But  how  true  it  is  that  with  most 
of  us,  that  indefinite  "  some  time  "  never  arrives. 
Our  healthful  efforts  are  postponed  till  disabilities 
intervene  or  the  better  opportunities  cease ;  and  so 
we  finally  wither  away,  still  unfruitful  vines.  Pro- 
crastination justl}'  bears  the  evil  name  of  thief.  Yet 
with  what  sublime  resignation  men  yield  to  her  even 
in  their  highest  concerns.  Some,  it  is  true,  who  pass 
A*  (9) 


10  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

through  early  and  middle  life  in  ways  unapproved  by 
themselves,  and  consequently  void  of  real  enjoyment, 
arouse,  at  the  eleventh  hour,  and  do  much  to  retrieve 
their  former  delin'^uencjes.  But  sMch  instances  are 
rare,  and  no  more  to  be  depended  on  than  those  death- 
bed repentances  which  our  clerical  admonishers  so 
constantly  warn  us  against  trusting  to.  While  one  man 
makes  a  figure  in  the  world  after  his  head  has  begun  to 
bleach,  ten  thousand  pursue  the  old  unprofitable  course. 
And,  reflecting  in  this  wise,  the  writer,  having  pen 
in  hand,  and  not  being  able  to  recall  any  particularly 
satisfactory  achievement  of  his  past  life,  considered 
whether  something  might  not  be  accomplished  by 
making  a  Book.  But  then  the  m^'stic  dread  produced 
by  that  impatient  ejaculation  of  the  most  patient  of 
men  —  "Behold,  my  desire  is  ,  .  .  that  mine  ad- 
versary had  written  a  book" — brought  him  shivering 
to  a  stand.  PresentI}',  however,  coming  to  the  con- 
clusion that  if  in  the  attacks  to  which  his  temerity 
might  expose  him,  no  more  formidable  enginery  than 
literary  criticism  were  employed,  annihilation,  certain- 
ly, would  not  be  the  melancholy  result,  he  bravely 
determined  to  proceed.  Yet  the  labor  is  undertaken 
with  unfeigned  diffidence ;  for  if  a  vicious  sentiment 
should  be  promulgated,  however  unintentionally,  the 
effects  of  the  wrong  might  be  felt  long  after  his  power 
to  counter-work  had  ceased ;  though,  being  void  of 
evil  intent,  he  might  reasonably  hope  to  escape  the  fu- 
ture punishment  denounced  by  the  worthy  old  Catholic 
against  depraved  writers ;  namely,  that  they  writhe  in 
purgatory  just  so  long  as  the  mischievous  effects  of 
their  writings  are  felt  among  mankind.  A  very  whole- 
some adjustment;  though  one  under  which  that  dread 
abode  will  not  be  likely  soon  to  want  for  population. 


4t 


INTRODUCTORY   REMARKS.  11 

To  keep  in  proper  humor  with  an  author,  and  most 
effectually  secure  the  good  he  intends,  the  reader 
should,  in  the  very  first  place,  endeavor  to  bring  him- 
self to  a  realizing  sense  of  the  exact  spirit  in  which  the 
work  originated ;  to  explore  the  mind  of  the  writer, 
so  to  speak,  primarily  as  regards  his  object,  and  sec- 
ondarily as  regards  his  style.  A  writer  is  necessitated, 
much  more  than  a  speaker,  to  rely  on  the  discernment 
and  fairness  of  those  whom  he  addresses,  for  he  cannot 
resort  to  gestures,  intonations,  and  the  thousand  little 
arts  that  a  speaker  can,  to  make  clear  his  meaning  and 
adorn  his  periods.  We  hope  to  be  dealt  justly  with. 
Yea,  more  than  that,  generously.  Most  of  us  are  great 
sticklers  for  justice  when  it  falls  on  heads  not  our  own. 
But  when  we  ourselves  are  in  danger,  mercy  is  the 
cry.  Men's  ideas  of  justice,  too,  greatly  vary.  Few 
agree  as  to  what  it  is  ;  or  they  award  to  it  an  elasticity 
capable  of  suiting  any  purpose.  It  is  quite  instructive 
to  the  philosophical  observer  to  see  how  often  the 
claims  of  pure  justice  mongers  are  based  on  the  most 
arrant  selfishness.  What,  indeed,  would  become  of  the 
best  of  us,  if  strict  justice  were  meted  out?  We  be- 
speak, then,  the  generous  consideration  of  the  reader. 

Some  authors  write  to  magnify  themselves,  and  some 
to  promote  other  selfish  ends.  Others  write  to  in- 
struct, and  others  to  amuse.  Hence  the  importance 
of  the  suggestion  just  made,  that  it  be  a  first  object  to 
search  the  mind  of  the  writer  whose  book  is  in  hand. 
True,  the  search  may  sometimes  lead  into  crooked 
ways  and  among  mists.  And  the  reader  may  possibly 
come  from  the  exploration  without  finding  any  purpose 
at  all.  But  such  instances  will  be  rare.  Every  book 
has  some  object,  or  it  is  not  worthy  of  the  dignity  of 
being  burnt  by  the  hangman.     As  to  the  present  vol- 


12  KOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

ume,  vre  trust  there  will  be  no  necessity  for  complaint 
in  this  respect.  It  would  be  a  matter  of  unbounded 
regret  and  mortification  with  the  writer,  should  any 
reader  deem  the  time  occupied  in  perusing  his  produc- 
tion misspent ;  so  much  so,  indeed,  as  to  move  him  to 
endeavor  some  amends.  But  what  amends?  Pecu- 
niary? People  usually  look  that  way  first.  And  hence 
he  might  offer  to  acquit  himself  accordingly.  But  as 
no  one  would  expect  such  unheard  of  generosity  to 
extend  beyond  the  profits  of  the  work,  and  the  profits 
depending  on  its  merits,  there  might  be  some  doubt  as 
to  the  value  of  the  offer. 

We  are  to  deal  chiefly  with  scenes  and  characters  of 
past  time.  And  oftentimes  more  good  maybe  derived 
from  the  contemplation  of  what  pertains  to  former 
days,  than  from  what  relates  to  the  present,  though  the 
latter  may  in  itself  possess  the  greater  merit.  "What- 
ever withdraws  us  from  the  power  of  our  senses,'* 
says  the  sturdy  old  moralist,  "  whatever  makes  the 
past,  the  distant,  or  the  future,  predominate  over  the 
present,  advances  us  in  the  dignity  of  thinking  beings. 
That  man  is  little  to  be  envied  whose  patriotism 
would  not  gain  force  on  the  plains  of  Marathon,  or 
whose  piety  would  not  grow  warmer  among  the  ruins 
of  Ion."  And  by  parity  of  reasoning  we  are  forward 
to  ask  who  can  fail  to  be  benefitted  by  considering  the 
pregnant  scenes  and  noble  characters  of  New  Eng- 
land's early  days  ?  Who  would  not  receive  inspiration 
from  viewing  the  giant  needle  on  Bunker  Hill,  the  Pil- 
grim monument  at  Plymouth,  when  built,  or  even  from 
wandering  among  our  quaint  old  tomb  stones? 

In  old  Plj-mouth  colony  there  commences  a  range 
of  hills,  varying  in  height,  but  never  reaching  an  alti- 


INTRODUCTORY   REMARKS.  13 

tude  rendering  them  eligible  to  the  title  of  mountains, 
that  extends  eastward  some  sixty  or  seventy  miles. 
These  hills  present  great  irregularities  in  shape,  and 
diversity  in  soil  and  geological  construction.  They 
follow  the  line  of  the  coast  at  distances  varying  from 
half  a  mile  to  six  miles  from  the  shore,  and  in  many 
places  bear  strong  evidence  of  once  having  been  the 
boundary  of  the  tide.  Anciently  they  were  well 
wooded ;  but  as  population  extended,  the  axe  in  many 
places  laid  them  bare  to  the  genial  influence  of  the  sun, 
and  orchards,  gardens  and  arable  fields  took  the  place 
of  the  old  vestments.  And  now,  at  intervals,  the  chain 
seems  much  broken,  as  most  portions,  likely  for  the 
present  to  repay  the  expense,  have  been  reclaimed. 
Some  sections,  which  nature  left  in  the  most  wild  and 
untamable  condition,  still  appear  in  the  primeval 
aspect. 

In  the  vicinity  of  Quincy  these  hills  present  immense 
ledges  of  beautiful  and  durable  granite,  which  afford 
an  inexhaustible  field  for  remunerative  labor.  Farther 
east  tower  stupendous  cliffs  of  porphyry.  The  range 
sweeps  up  from  Plymouth,  through  Norfolk  and  Mid- 
dlesex, and  terminates  in  Essex,  near  the  Merrimack. 
Should  one  take  a  view  from  the  cupola  of  the  State 
House  at  Boston,  or  from  the  top  of  Bunker  Hill  Mon- 
ument, he  might  trace  for  many  miles  the  undulating 
course  of  this  interesting  cliain.  At  intervals,  along 
the  whole  line,  are  detached  transverse  sections,  great- 
er or  less  in  extent,  giving  diversity  to  the  landscape, 
and  furnishing  romantic  nestling  places  for  numerous 
little  settlements.  A  principal  spur  traverses  the 
whole  length  of  Cape  Ann,  terminating  at  Rockport^ 
where  the  billows  of  the  Atlantic  eternally  beat  against 
its  granite  butress. 


14  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

The  territory  from  the  hills  to  the  sea  is  in  somo 
places  almost  a  perfect  plain  for  miles  in  extent;  in 
other  places  it  is  broken  and  abrupt.  Some  of  the 
largest  and  most  thrifty  settlements  of  New  England 
adorn  and  make  busy  this  tract.  Indeed,  Boston  itself 
is  within  the  limit,  as  well  as  Roxbury,  Cambridge, 
Charlestown,  Lynn  and  Salem.  Here  and  in  the  adja- 
cent hill  country  were  the  first  explorations  of  the  pil- 
grim fathers;  and  here  were  many  of  the  first  English 
settlements.  It  was  in  ihe  rear  of  Boston,  that  the  apos- 
tle Eliot  commenced  his  pious  labors,  perseveringly, 
through  winter's  cold  and  summer's  heat,  pursuing  his 
intiepid  course,  achieving  such  noble  conquests  and 
gaining  such  enduring  renown.  In  this  vicinity,  too, 
some  of  the  most  stirring  of  the  opening  scenes  of  the 
Revolution  took  place.  And  on  those  bright  mornings 
of  April  and  June,  when  our  Pine  Tree  Flag  unfurled 
at  Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill,  the  whole  region  re- 
sounded with  the  tramp  of  gathering  patriots. 

All  along  this  vast  range  of  hills  are  disclosed  such 
magnificent  marine  and  landscape  views  as  it  is  be- 
lieved are  equalled  nowhere  else  on  the  Atlantic  coast. 

The  Third  Plantation  occupied  a  central  portion 
of  this  charming  coast  terriiui-y,  and  was  parent  of  the 
renowned  City  of  Lynn,  or  '•  Lin,"  as  it  is  spelled  in  the 
act  bestowing  the  name  ;•  a  place  known  and  respected 
wherever  shoes  are  v/oi'n  and  bay  fish  eaten.  Several 
other  ambitious  towns  are  honored  by  the  same  parent- 
age ;  but  Lynn  seems  always  to  have  ranked  as  the 
most  eminent  of  the  beautiful  off'spring  of  that  memo- 
rable settlement;  and  hence  the  whole  Plantation  is 
occasionally  distinguished  by  her  euphonious  name. 

It  was  in  1629  that  the  good  old  Third  Plantation  was 


INTRODUCTORY   REMARKS.  15 

commenced.  And  it  is  our  purpose  to  follow  these 
introductorj  remarks  by  some  biographical  sketches 
of  the  sturdy  old  settlors,  they  being  eminently  types 
of  the  times  —  interspersed  by  allusions  and  details  of 
various  complexion. 

There  is  no  kind  of  general  reading  more  profitabla 
than  well  digested  biography.  Every  person  possesses 
an  instinctive  propensity  to  imitate  the  actions  of 
others ;  and  it  is  on  this  account  that  evil  communicar 
tions  corrupt.  But  it  is  also  true  that  a  channel  is 
thus  afforded  through  which  the  most  beneficial  results 
may  flow.  In  reading  the  hfe  of  a  great  or  good  man, 
where  the  traits  which  led  to  his  greatness  or  good- 
ness are  clearly  and  judiciously  delineated,  the  most 
healtliful  inspiration  is  imparted. 

"  Plutarch's  Lives "  have  probably  moulded  more 
great  characters  than  any  other  collection  extant,  save 
the  sacred  writings.  ■.  And  how  often  do  we  find  them 
spoken  of  by  leading  spirits  of  departed  centuries,  as 
well  as  those  of  modern  times,  as  having  furnished  the 
models  by  which  they  endeavored  to  shape  themselves. 
They  have  imparted  energy  to  the  regal  arm;  incor- 
ruptibility to  the  dauntless  breast;  inspiration  to  the 
patriot  heart.  Some  of  the  loftiest  principles  of  juris- 
prudence are  in  them  developed,  some  of  the  noblest 
conceptions  of  genuine  liberty  enforced,  some  of  the 
most  exalted  characteristics  of  true  manhood  pre- 
sented. They  were  the  companions  of  Alfred,  of  Eliz- 
abeth, of  Shakspeare,  of  Cromwell,  of  Chatham,  of 
Franklin  and  Bonaparte  ;  yes,  and  of  some  of  the 
stout-hearted  wilderness  battlers  of  whom  we  are  pres- 
ently to  speak. 

The  history  of  every  community  may  furnish  char- 
acters for  the  skilful  biographer  to  delineate  with  ap- 


16  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

plaiise  and  profit.  And  such  local  biographies  may 
perhaps  in  many  instances  prove  most  useful,  because 
the  circumstances  and  interests  of  the  principals  and 
those  who  should  be  the  imitators  are  so  nearly  iden- 
tical as  to  afibrd  a  more  steady  and  comprehensible 
light. 

But  we  approach  our  task  with  diffidence,  consider- 
ing how  many  biographers  prove  themselves  unfit  for 
the  labors  they  undertake.  The  dispositions  of  some 
lead  them  to  indiscriminately  laud,  of  others  to  indis- 
criminately calumniate.  Few  have  power  to  analyze 
character  without  bias,  and  perhaps  fewer  still  the  dis- 
position. Yet,  the  biographer  who  conceals  all  the 
faults  of  his  subject  because  he  discovers  much  to 
applaud,  or  all  his  virtues  because  he  discovers  much 
to  condemn,  betrays  his  trust  most  sadly.  And  then 
again,  many  rampant  authors  have  their  own  innate 
prejudices,  whims  and  fancies  to  be  pi'ovided  for. 
And  these  are  at  times  not  a  little  troublesome.  Little 
indeed  do  readers  know  of  the  throes  of  authors  —  of 
the  ideas  that  spring  up,  kicking  and  ranting  among 
the  brains  like  unbroken  colts,  too  ill-conditioned  to 
prance  before  the  critical  and  exacting  world,  and  yet 
so  impatient  of  restraint.  If  they  knew  they  might 
pity  and  forgive. 

And  many  readers  fail  properly  to  appreciate  the 
labors  of  an  author  in  a  work  like  the  one  now  in 
hand,  from  entertaining  divers  wrong  notions  touching 
the  quality  cf  the  information.  Some  suspect  if  they 
happen  to  come  across  anything  of  which  they  have 
not  before  heard,  that  it  must  be  false  ;  forgetting  that 
there  may  be  some  truths  in  the  world  with  which 
they  have  never  become  acquainted  —  that  many  im- 
portant historical  facts  have  for  ages  slept  in  private 


DfTRODUCTORY   REMARKS.  17 

records :  where,  having  escaped  the  search  of  the  an- 
tiquarian plodder,  they  have  finally  been  stumbled 
upon,  as  it  were,  by  the  mere  excursionist  in  history. 

It  has  been  remarked  that  much  of  the  truth  of  his- 
tory is  stranger  than  fiction.  It  certainly  is.  And 
hence,  worthy  reader,  we  trust  you  will  not  question 
any  of  our  statements  because  they  detail  strange  or 
even  absurd  transactions.  That  would  be  to  suppose 
men  never  do  strange  or  absurd  things.  The  moment 
that  a  relation  should  enter  the  territory  of  the  impos- 
sible, however,  it  is  right  to  reject  it.  And  we  are 
free  to  admit  that  errors  will  sometimes  creep  into  the 
most  dignified  and  solemn  histories.  Even  the  intelli- 
gent and  conscientious  Prescott,  it  has  been  discovered, 
was  led  to  adopt  many  fictions  for  truth.  It  is  not 
possible  always  to  avoid  this.  And  all  that  the  best 
can  safely  promise,  is  to  be  faithful  in  the  endeavor 
not  to  mislead. 

An  untruth,  when  it  appears  upon  the  page  of  a 
book,  may  be  the  instrument  of  much  greater  mischief 
than  it  could  have  occasioned  as  a  mere  spoken  word ; 
because  in  the  "book  it  is  more  enduring,  more  widely 
circulated,  and  comes  before  the  world  in  more  pre- 
tentious guise.  Of  this  we  are  aware,  and  wish  that 
every  author  would  take  due  cognizance.  Occasion- 
ally, it  is  true,  an  innocent  fiction  may  prove  an  excel- 
lent illustration.  In  the  Bible  itself  we  sometimes  find 
great  truths  illustrated  by  parable.  And  in  this  view 
a  historical  writer  may  take  a  little  comfort ;  for  while 
he  cannot  always  know  the  truth  of  his  statements,  he 
can  know  their  aptness  to  produce  the  desired  im- 
pression. 

The  annds  of  that  favored  region  which  was  the 
scene  of  much  that  we  shall  relate,  are   rife  with  bril- 

2 


18 


NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 


liant  characters  which  we  are  persuaded  would,  if 
faithfully  exhibited,  not  only  shed  lustre  upon  her 
name,  but  exercise  an  influence  powerful  and  good. 
Yet  it  is  not  our  iutention  to  undertake  anything  like 
extended  biographies.  All  we  propose  ic,  to  attempt 
a  few  sketches  of  certain  early  settlers  —  rather  the 
bringing  of  them  out  as  lights  to  show  the  condition 
of  things  during  the  interesting  and  eventful  times 
when  it  pleased  their  Maker  to  direct  their  sojourn 
here.  And  the  first  of  the  ancient  gentry  with  whom 
it  is  proposed  to  step  upon  the  stage  is  Zachariah 
Hart,  to  whose  name  may  be  found  on  the  records  the 
prefix  of  Mister.  The  pseudo-aristocracy  of  the  col- 
ony were  very  particular  about  titular  distinctions. 
The  simple  appellation  of  Goodman  was  generally 
awarded  to  such  as  had  not  taken  the  freeman's  oath, 
and  the  more  dignified  one  of  Mister  to  such  as  had. 
The  rule,  however,  was  not  invariable.  Of  'other  titles 
something  may  be  said  hereafter. 


3 


X?\4^4'Afe^'^^ 


Primitive  IIauitation. 


ZA.CHi^RIA.H    Hi^HT. 

"  With  brawnie  arme  and  dauntless  hearte, 
he  strode  in  godlie  pryde  ; 
Nor  ghosts,  wolves,  Indians,  Devill's  art, 
could  turne  his  steps  asyde." 

Mr.  Hart  was  born  in  an  ancient  cathedral  town, 
near  the  Scottish  border,  somewhere  in  the  hitherward 
verge  of  the  sixteenth  century ;  it  is  believed  in  the 
year  1594.  And  as  he  had  little  or  no  religious  train- 
ing, he  was  liable,  as  he  grew  up,  to  be  swayed  by  com- 
paratively slight  circumstances.  He  became  a  rigid 
puritan.  And  his  principles  were  fixed,  probabl}',  by 
the  fact  that  the  hair  of  his  head  was  of  a  rusty  3'ellow, 
grew  rather  in  tufts  than  broadcast,  and  was  almost  as 
stiff  as  the  bristles  on  a  swine's  back. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  good  churchmen  were 
careful  in  the  dressing  of  their  hair,  taking  much  pride 
in  the  graceful  curl  and  shining  lock,  while  the  dissen- 
ters dissented  as  strongly  from  all  such  vanities  as 
from  the  grievous  superstitions,  as  they  deemed  them, 
perpetuated  by  any  of  the  fondly  cherished  ceremonials 
of  the  establishment.  Slighter  circumstances  than 
swayed  Mr.  Hart  in  his  choice  of  a  religion,  have 
swayed  others  in  all  ages. 

He  probably  had  a  sort  of  underground  apprehension 
that  there  was  a  natural  impediment  to  his  becoming 
a  good,  or  at  least  a  shining,  churchman,  and  so  the 

(19) 


20  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

other  party  at  once  had  his  sympathies.  And  by  the 
time  he  had  attained  one  score  and  ten  years,  his  prin- 
ciples were  as  well  defined  and  stiff  as  the  tufts  that 
adorned  his  head.  Of  the  common  frailties  of  human 
nature  he  possessed  a  competence.  But  he  also  had 
conspicuous  virtues.  And  in  this  brief  sketch  we  shall 
probably  be  able  to  show  that  he  was  one  of  the  most 
useful  and  meritorious  of  the  little  band  who  made  the 
first  christian  lodgment  on  this  heathen  territory. 

It  is  not  worth  while  to  spend  time  in  details  re- 
specting the  early  life  of  our  Subject,  for  that  was 
passed  much  as  the  early  lives  of  others.  He  was  sent 
to  a  decent  school,  and  now  punished  and  now  re- 
warded, as  his  merits  determined  or  the  caprice  of  his 
teacher  dictated.  And  he  left  the  school,  improved  by 
his  instruction  and  discipline. 

One  thing,  however,  ought  to  be  mentioned.  While 
at  school  he  lodged  in  an  upper  room,  just  beneath  the 
window  of  which  an  outbuilding  was  reared.  And 
over  the  roof  of  that  architectural  adjunct  hung  the 
unsuspicious  branches  of  a  fruit  tree  belonging  to  a 
neighbor.  . 

Zachariah  had  not  occupied  the  room  long  before 
the  ripening  fruit  attracted  a  glance  that  he  had  to 
spare  from  his  book.  And  that  glance  was  the  occa- 
sion of  some  reflection  after  his  head  was  laid  upon  the 
pillow.  In  short,  the  luscious  fruit  was  a  temptation 
that  could  not  be  winked  down ;  and  he  began  to  lay 
plans  for  the  possession  of  a  share.  His  plans  and  the 
fruit  were  ripe  at  about  the  same  time.  So  by  the 
lio-ht  of  the  moon  he  lowered  himself  from  his  window, 
stole  along  the  ridge-pole,  and  then  commenced  a  slide 
towards  the  eaves.  Unfortunately  a  shower  had  ren- 
dered the  roofing  exceedingly  slippery,  and  do  what 


ZACHARIAH    HART.  21 

lie  could  it  was  impossible  for  biin  to  arrest  bis  pro- 
gress downward. 

As  he  gracefully  sailed  by  the  golden  fruit  that  lay 
within  reach,  he  cast  upon  it  that  mingled  look  of 
shame,  contempt  and  contrition  wherewith  one  is  apt 
to  view  a  tempter  in  whose  snare  he  is  fairly  caught, 
and  who  looks  impudently 'up,  laughing  at  his  calamity. 
After  an  interesting  exploration  among  the  branches 
of  the  tree,  he  landed  upon  a  bed  of  rocks,  and  was 
presently  found  and  taken  up  very  much  frightened  and 
somewhat  weakened  by  the  loss  of  blood.  There  was 
a  terrible  wound  on  his  forehead,  but  no  bones  were 
broken ;  and  he  was  soon  able  again  to  take  his  place 
in  the  school.  In  after  life  he  derived  considerable 
benefit  from  this  adventure. 

After  the  healing  of  the  wound  a  frightful  scar  was 
fortunately  left.  And  this  proved  of  much  service  to 
him,  not  only  in  a  moral  way,  by  reminding  him  how 
unex4)ectedly  dangers  may  spring  up  in  the  path  of  the 
evil  doer,  but  otherwise,  by  furnishing  a  mark  that 
might  indicate  the  performance  of  some  perilous  duty. 
And  he  was  not  backward  in  availing  himself  of  the 
advantages  of  the  providential  bestowment.  At  one 
time  it  answered  for  a  wound  received  in  the  Dutch 
war;  at  another,  for  one  received  in  defending  a  forti- 
fication against  the  French.  And  it  made  him  a  hero 
here  in  New  England,  as  being  a  badge  gained  in  a 
desperate  conflict  with  Indians  soon  after  he  landed. 
We  are  astonished  that  one  in  those  days  of  simplicity 
should  predicate  such  diverse  theories  on  a  single  fact; 
though  we  should  not  wonder  at  any  thing  of  the  kind 
in  these  days ;  for  men  are  now  so  given  to  lying  that 
when  one  undertakes  to  tell  the  truth  he  becomes  an 
object  of  suspicion,  and  people  wonder  what  on  earth 


22  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

W 
his  purpose  can  be,  especially  where  no  selfish  end  is 

apparent. 

Among  the  manifold  excuses  that  have  been  urged 
for  Mr.  Hart  is  the  one  that  his  false  statements  were 
made  under  a  loss  of  self-possession ;  that  is,  we  sup- 
pose, being  suddenly  asked  the  occasion  of  his  scar, 
and  unwilling  to  name  the  true  caus6,  he  would,  in 
confused  haste,  attribute  it  to  this  or  that  imaginary 
agency. 

That  people  do  sometimes  sin  under  a  loss  of  self- 
possession  is  no  doubt  true.  But  no  instance  of  any 
sin  excepting  that  of  profanity  committed  under  such 
circumstances,  at  this  moment  occurs  to  us.  We  are 
told  of  a  certain  minister  once  living  in  this  region,  who 
would  sometimes,  under  sudden  excitement  or  alarm, 
swear  in  a  way  that  would  have  done  dirty  honor  to  the 
army  in  Flanders,  but  who,  when  the  gale  had  passed, 
had  no  sort  of  recollection  of  his  guilty  utterances. 
And  when  the  matter  was  pressed  home  upon  him  he 
would  seek  to  change  the  issue  and  refer  to  tlie  ex- 
ample of  St.  Peter,  declaring  that  on  the  memorable 
occasion  of  his  denying  his  Master,  the  swearing  was 
added  through  inadvertence.  We  certainly  think 
Peter's  denial  was  bad  enough  without  his  vulgar  ad- 
dition, but  do  not  learn  that  he  ever  sought  to  excuse 
himself  on  this  singular  ground.  Still,  there  was  inge- 
nuity in  the  minister's  position. 

Mr.  Hart's  case  is  a  little  strengthened,  too,  by  a 
statement  in  the  journal  of  Obadiah  Turner,  which  work 
will  be  more  fully  brought  into  notice  hereafter.  On 
the  whole,  anomalous  as  it  may  seem  in  one  generally 
80  steady  and  brave,  there  really  is  reason  to  apprehend 
that  Mr.  Hart  did  occasionally  lose  his  self-possession 
to  a  degree  that  left  him  to  do  things  of  which  he 


ZACHARIAH    HART.  23 

might  well  have  been  ashamed.  In  Mr.  Turner's  jour- 
nal we  find  this  statement: 

''Zachariah  Harte  was  wth  y®  firste  companie  y*  came 
to  Lin.  lie  worked  wth  greate  brauerie  in  putting  vp 
y^  firste  habitation.  And  there  being  no  minister  wth 
them,  he  did  make  a  lustie  praier  at  y*^  laying  of  y^  cor- 
ner stone  well  for  y"  time  was  a  stoute  oake  blocke. 
I'hey  do  discourse  mch  of  hjs  skill  and  handiework 
and  of  hjs  godlie  exhortations  on  y**  ocacion.  But  jt 
hath  been  given  oute  y'  he  did  use  manie  prophane 
words  mcli  to  y*^  scandall  of  those  aboute.  And  vpon 
hjs  being  reprimanded  therefor  he  did  stoutlie  denie 
y^  same  ;  whereat  they  greatlie  wondered,  there  being 
so  manie  witnesses.  But  he  further  sayd  y*  if  jt  so 
seemed  to  them,  he  could  say  y*  jt  was  onlie  a  wrong 
working  of  y**  tongue,  there  being  no  euil  speech  in 
hjs  liearte.     But  I  thinke  this  strange  talke." 

Mr.  Hart  joined  the  pilgrims  at  Leyden  and  remained 
with  them  there  a  few  years.  Having  thus  cast  his  lot 
with  the  refugees,  he  scorned  to  desert  them ;  and 
when  they,  as  perils  thickened,  fled  to  these  shores, 
with  undaunted  heart  followed.  In  what  particular  ves- 
sel he  came  over,  it  does  not  appear.  But  we  find  him 
at  Lynn,  with  the  very  first  detachment  of  settlers. 

It  was  a  warm  day  in  the  early  part  of  June,  1629, 
when  tlie  little  band  pitched  their  tent  among  the  trees 
that  overshadowed  the  beautiful  plain  stretching  from 
the  hills  to  the  sea,  and  immediately  set  about  erecting 
a  habitation. 

In  speaking  of  this  "goodlie  companie,"  some  histo- 
rians have  omitted  to  mention  that  Mr.  Hart  was  one 
of  them.  But  such  a  slight  cannot  extinguish  him. 
He  did  more  labor,  sweat  more,  ate  and  drank  more, 
and  according  to   Mr.   Turner,  swore    more   on  that 


24  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

eventful  day,  than  any  other  individual  present.  But 
they  all  Avoiked  with  the  industry  of  bees  and  beavers 
and  were  right  glad  when  evening  drew  on. 

It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  on  this  great  occa- 
sion there  were  several  present  who  did  not  come  with 
the  intention  of  remaining.  They  were  from  Salem, 
it  is  presumed,  and  came  by  special  appointment  or 
invitation,  to  assist  by  their  advice  and  skill  in  laying 
the  corner  stone,  as  it  were,  of  the  new  settlement. 
Among  these,  as  will  afterwards  appear,  was  the  famous 
Roger  Conant.  The  Captain  of  the  day  himself,  was 
also  one  of  these  temporary  sojourners.  Now  those 
historians  who  do  not  mention  these,  and  what  the 
number  of  them  was  is  not  readily  ascertained,  as  among 
the  first  settlers,  do  right,  for  they  were  not  settlers  in 
a. proper  sense.  Some  appear  to  have  remained  a  con- 
siderable time,  and  some  to  have  left  immediately. 
And  furthermore,  some  who  are  reckoned  as  first  set- 
tlers do  not  seem  to  have  been  here  for  the  first  few 
months.  Indeed  it  was  something  like  the  signing  of 
the  declaration  of  independence  ;  though  purporting 
to  have  been  begun  and  completed  on  the  fourth  of 
July,  the  fact  is  that  many  if  not  most  of  the  signatures 
were  affixed  at  different  times  subsequent  to  that  date. 
The  purpose  of  these  remarks  is  to  remind  the  reader 
that  though  there  may  be  apparent  conflicts  between 
ourselves  and  others  who  have  written  on  the  subject, 
yet  all  may  be  right.  We  have  no  thought  of  being 
captious,  making  charges  of  ignorance,  or  casting  re- 
flections. 

As  the  glorious  sun  sank  behind  the  tall  pines  that 
thrcAV  their  dense  shade  upon  the  little  clearing  that 
had  been  made,  those  sturdy  pioneers  looked  with  sat- 
isfaction upon  the  habitation  they  had  erected.     It  was 


ZACHAEIAH  HART.  26 

sufEcient  for  temporary  shelter,  though  not  comely  to 
the  eye.  Oii  that  day,  for  the  first  time,  had  the  pri- 
mary sounds  of  civilization,  the  noise  of  the  saw,  the 
axe  and  the  hammer,  been  heard  in  these  solitudes. 
But  these  sounds  were  now  hushed. 

The  workmen  had  gathered  together  the  tools  with 
which  they  had  been  toiling,  and  washed  in  a  neighbor- 
ing rivulet.  The  little  girl  and  her  boy  companion  had 
returned  from  their  rambles,  with  muddy  feet  and  stain- 
ed lips.  And  the  whole  company  were  gathered  near, 
the  habitation  in  preparation  for  their  evening  meal. 

The  venerable  leader  of  the  band  was  seated  upon  a 
stately  oaken  stump.  The  refreshing  breeze  played  on 
his  manly  brow  and  swayed  his  white  locks.  The  mild 
lustre  of  his  hazel  eye,  told  of  the  undisturbed  spirit 
within.  Time  had  plowed  deep  furrows  along  his  dingy 
cheeks,  and  having  harrowed  rather  unskilfully,  little 
ridges  of  warts  were  left,  much  resembling  such  as  are 
sometimes  seen  upon  the  hard  shell  gourd.  He  sat  in 
silence,  evidently  contemplating  the  results  that  might 
flow  from  that  day  of  small  things.  And  had  he  been 
permitted  to  extend  his  vision  along  the  vista  of  years 
to  this  our  day,  how  glorious  must  have  appeared  to 
him  the  end  of  that  vista,  though  some  dark  spots 
intervened. 

But  the  meditations  of  the  worthy  leader  were  sud- 
denly interrupted  by  a  little  occurrence  which  will  be 
best  related  iu  the  words  of  the  old  writer  to  whom  we 
are  chiefly  indebted  for  our  account  of  the  transactions 
of  that  important  day : 

'<  Y®  godlie  and  prudent  Captain  of  y®  ocacion  did 

for  a  time  sit  on  y"^  stumpe  in  pleasante  moode.     And 

y^  others  did  stroUe  abovte  as  best  sujted  themselues 

their  worke  being  done,  save  one  or  two  who  must 

B 


26  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

needs  always  be  at  work  at  something.  Presentlie  all 
were  hurried  together  in  greate  alarruni  to  witness 
y''  strainge  doing  of  y**  goode  olde  man.  Vtteriug  a 
lu-stie  screame  he  bounded  from  y*'  stumpe,  and  they 
ct)ming  vpp  did  discry  him  jumping  aboute  in  y*'  oddest 
manner,  snapping  lijs  fingers  and  throwing  hjs  arms 
arounde  in  such  wise  as  to  make  all  greatlie  feare  y*  he 
had  been  seized  wth  some  sudden  and  direfuU  distrac- 
tion, and  would  doe  harme  to  all  y*  got  within  hjs 
reache.  And  he  did  likewise  puff  and  blow  Avth  hjs 
mouthe  and  roll  vpp  hjs  eyes  in  y"  most  distressful! 
way. 

"  All  were  greatlie  moved  and  did  loudlie  beg  of  hjm 
to  advertise  them  whereof  he  was  afflicted  in  so  sore  a 
manner.  And  presentlie  he  pointing  to  hjs  forehead, 
they  did  spy  tliere  a  small  red  spot,  and  swelHng. 
Then  did  they  begin  to  thinke  y'  what  had  happened 
vnto  him  was  this,  y*  some  pestigious  scorpion  or  fly- 
ing dcvill  had  bitten  him,  and  y''  he  was  crying  oute  in 
agonie  of  paine.  Goodwife  Norlan  did  seize  a  hand- 
full  of  wett  moss,  and  running  vpp  hold  y®  same  vpon 
y®  wounde,  and  y'  did  mch  abate  y®  paine.  Then  said 
he,  y*  as  he  sat  on  y^  stumpe  he  did  spy  vpon  y''  branche 
of  a  tree  y*^  stoode  neare  by,  what  to  hjm  seemed  a 
large  fruite,  y''  like  of  wch  he  had  never  before  seen, 
being  mch  in  size  and  shape  like  y^  heade  of  a  man, 
and  hauing  a  grey  rinde  wch,  as  he  deemed,  betokened 
ripeness.  There  being  so  manie  new  and  luscious  fruits 
from  time  to  time  discovered  in  this  faire  land,  none 
could  know  y"  whole  of  them,  and  jt  might  be  y'  a 
fruit  of  y®  coccownut  kinde  might  grow  hereabout. 
And  he  said  hjs  eyes  did  mch  rejoice  at  y"  sight. 

"  Seizing  a  stone  wch  lay  neare,  he  hurled  y®  same 
thereat,  thinking  to  bring  jt  to  y^  ground,  and  thereby 


s%- 


ZACHARIAH   HART.  27 

procure  a  daintie  for  y''  svpper  table.  But  nut  taking 
faire  aime,  lie  onlie  hit  j''  branch  whereon  hung  y^  fruit. 
Y'' jarr  was  not  enow  to  shake  down  y®  same,  bvt  there 
issued  from  jt  as  from  a  nest,  seeminglie  in  great  rage, 
diverse  little  winged  scorpions  mch  in  size  like  y"^  large 
fenn  flies  on  y"  marish  lands  of  olde  Englande,  bvt  hav- 
ing more  of  a  yellow  color.  And  one  of  them  bound- 
ing againste  hjs  forehead,  did  in  an  instant,  as  he 
declared,  giue  a  moste  terrible  sting,  whereof  came 
y^  horrible  paine  and  agonie  at  wch  he  so  cried  out." 

What  the  company  then  did  about  tlie  newly  discov- 
ered hornet's  nest,  as  such  it  seems  to  have  been  — 
whether  their  curiosity  overcame  their  prudence  and 
they  pelted  it  to  pieces,  suffering  the  penalty  which  the 
outraged  insects  knew  so-  well  how  to  inflict,  or  whether 
their  fears  overcame  their  curiosity  and  they  let  it 
alone  —  we  are  not  inforrfied. 

The  interruption  was  not  of  long  continuance,  and 
things  were  soon  progressing  as  quietly  as  before. 
There  is  our  worthy  friend  Zachariaji  Hai-t,  busy  again 
with  his  axe,  chopping  up  fuel  for  the  morrow's  use. 
He  is  always  at  work  and  seemingl}^  never  tired.  His 
short  sword  dangles  with  a  sort  of  good  natured  defi- 
ance at  his  side.  And  having  thrown  by  his  slouched 
hat,  the  brassy  light  and  swaying  shadows  fill  upon 
his  bristly  locks  giving  them  a  picturesque  tinge  of 
yellow  green. 

And  there,  with  his  sinewy  arms  bared  to  the  task 
of  assisting  in  the  preparation  of  the  evening  meal,  is 
the  renowned  Roger  Con<int.  Every  reader  of  New 
England  history  knows  Avell  who  he  was.  His  image 
looms  up  at  intervals  in  all  the  coast  settlements.  He 
came  over  in  the  very  infancy  of  the  Plymouth  colony. 
And  when  Lj^ford  and  Oldham  were  expelled  for  their 


28  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

seditious  proceedings  and  retired  to  Nantasket,  he, 
being  one  of  their  adherents,  packed  up  and  followed. 
In  1625,  he  was  appointed  to  oversee  the  fishing  and 
planting  station  commenced  at  Cape  Ann.  Thither  he 
removed.  The  next  year,  however,  he  broke  up  the  es- 
tablishment and  with  others  "went  west"  —  only  about 
fifteen  miles,  to  be  sure,  but  perhaps  enough  to  entitle 
him  to  the  honor  of  having  put  in  motion  that  westward 
tide  of  emigration  which  has  continued  to  roll  on  with 
continually  increasing  volume,  to  this  day.  He  im- 
mediately began  a  settlement  at  Naumkeag,  Avhich, 
under  Hebraic  inspiration,  was  soon  called  Salem ;  a 
name  which  Roger  Williams,  with  pungent  irony,  used 
to  render  into  Peace,  in  allusion  to  the  almost  ceaseless 
quarrels  of  the  settlers  there,  as  well  as  their  severe 
treatment  of  himself.  Conant,  indeed,  seems  to  have 
had  as  irresistible  a  passion  to  be  present  at  the  com- 
mencement of  settlements,  as  his  neighbor  Endicott 
had  to  be  at  sein-drawings  or  pig-killings.  So  it  is 
not  at  all  remarkable  that  he  was  present  at  the  auspi- 
cious birth  of  the  Third  Plantation.  There  he  was — his 
athletic  form  towering  above  the  group,  his  sharp  eyes 
glistening  beneath  their  shaggy  brows,  like  black  dia- 
monds set  in  red  putty  —  giving  directions,  explaining 
principles,  and  exhorting  to  christian  faithfulness,  in 
a  voice  that  a  juvenile  hippopotamus  might  envy.  Nor 
did  he  scorn  any  useful  labor.  His  arms,  that  might 
have  held  asunder  a  struggling  Heenan  and  Sayers,  did 
not  disdain  to  wield  the  axe  oi;  rear  the  knotty  rafter. 
Another  interesting  and  useful  personage  present  on 
the  occasion  was  Mistress  Huldah  Collins,  the  portly 
dame  who  had  been  detailed  for  the  supervision  of  the 
cooking  department.  Matters  progressed  with  happy 
quietude  during  the  day.     But  in  the  preparation  of 


ZACHARIAH    HART.  29 

the  evening  repast,  slie  had  become  a  little  hurried  and 
also  a  little  flurried,  as  cooks  are  liable  to  be  at  such 
times.  So  she  must  be  pardoned  if  her  shrill  voice  did 
now  and  then  ring  discordantly  in  the  ears  of  Roger 
and  Zachariah  and  the  others  who  were  enlisted  as  her 
aids.  Her  cap  had  been  thrown  aside,  for  the  pretty 
frill  had  been  burned  off  by  a  straying  flame  and  her 
long  gray  hair  streamed  and  twisted  round  in  a  manner 
more  observable  than  becoming;  a  sample  now  and  then 
finding  its  way  into  t)ie  utensil  upon  the  fire.  But  all 
trials  must  come  to  an  end. 

She  took  the  last  little  puffed  cake  from  the  frying 
pan  that  continued  to  tremble  and  spit  over  the  embers, 
and  directed  Zachariah  to  give  notice  that  all  things 
were  readj^  for  the  evening  meal.  In  smoking  state  it 
was  served  upon  the  temporary  board  erected  beneath 
the  spreading  branches  of  a  huge  pine.  The  spot  was 
convenient  on  account  of  the  shade,  and  convenient  to 
receive  the  litter  shaken  down  by  divers  squirrels  and 
birds  who  entertained  themselves  in  hopping  about 
among  the  foliage  and  darting  envious  looks  upon  the 
preparations  below.  All  being  ready,  by  direction  of 
the  leader  a  blessing  was  craved  by  honest  Roger. 
And  then  they  proceeded,  in  decent  order,  to  appro- 
priately dispose  of  the  frugal  repast.  No  eye  caught 
a  glimpse  of  the  hideous  copper  face  that  now  and  then 
peered  upon  them  from  a  neighboring  thicket,  nor  of 
the  painted  form  that  stealthily  glided  among  the  gray 
trunks  in  the  valley  below. 

The  meal  ended,  and  it  was  now  an  hour  of  rest. 
The  huge  trunks  that  had  that  day  fallen  by  their  sturdy 
strokes,  hewn  blocks,  boxes  and  chests,  furnished  them 
with  lounges  and  seats.  The  young  and  the  old,  in 
groups,  engaged  in  innocent  sports  or  grave  conversa- 


30  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

tion.  And  the  little  band  were  happy  :  happy  in  the 
society  and  sympath}'  of  each  other  ;  happy  in  their 
anticipations  of  the  future  ;  happy  in  having  escaped 
the  trials,  temptations  and  persecutions  of  the  lands 
they  had  left;  and  happy  in  having  found  so  pleasant 
and  peaceful  a  home. 

The  sun  went  down.  The  crescent  of  the  new  moon 
hung  in  marvellous  beauty  above  the  glowing  horizon 
and  the  stars  began  to  twinkle  in  the  blue  deeps  above. 
The  pilgrim  band  remained  enjoying  the  viigin  sweet- 
ness of  that  holy  eventide.  It  was  a  season  for  medi- 
tation ;  a  season  and  a  scene  in  which  the  heart  could 
not  fail  to  be  led  to  aspirations  of  the  most  exalted  na- 
ture ;  a  season  and  a  scene  in  which  a  sense  of  the 
deceitfulness  of  all  earth's  promises,  the  nothingness  of 
its  objects  of  ambition,  its  hopes  and  its  fears,  must 
press  upon  the  mind  in  glaring  contrast  with  the  tran- 
scendant  Avortli  of  that  spiritual  discipline  which  alone 
can  satisfy  and  save.  And  no  people  could  have  had  a 
more  stern  realization  of  such  truths. 

The  hour  for  repose  drew  near,  and  the  venerable 
leader  proposed  the  singing  of  a  hymn.  With  one  con- 
sent the  sacred  melody  rang  among  the  wilds  to  such 
purpose  that  there  was  a  general  rousing  of  the  forest 
tenants  of  every  nook  within  half  a  mile.  And  such 
startling  responses  were  heard  from  rock,  cave  and 
hollow  tree,  that  there  can  be  little  wonder  that  the 
pious  old  father  imagined  that  the  evil  one  was  thus 
earl}'  marshalling  his  phalanx  for  an  onset.  This  idea 
excited  considerable  alarm,  but  fortunately  it  was  dis- 
covered that  a  Latin  Bible  and  a  horseshoe  were  in  the 
camp.  The  idea  so  general  among  the  eaily  settlers 
that  Satan  had  determined  to  destroy  them  by  a  regu- 
lar corporeal  descent  is  easily  accounted  for.     Their 


ZACHARIAH   HART.  31 

fond  conceits  led  them  to  fancy  themselves  the  most 
pure  upon  earth,  and  hence  the  special  objects  of  Sa- 
tanic jealousy  and  wrath.  They  did  not  seem  once  to 
realise  that  the  old  brimstone  gentleman  must  have 
had  many  other  spots  in  the  wide  world  to  keep  an  eye 
on,  or  might  content  himself  with  a  general  oversight 
of  their  progress,  or,  perhaps,  despatch  one  of  his  trusty 
marshals  to  keep  watch  and  ward.  No,  no,  it  could 
not  be  possible,  in  their  view,  but  that  he  looked  upon 
them,  though  few  in  numbers,  as  the  most  valiant  and 
determined  champions  in  the  whole  world  of  his  ad- 
versaries. 

The  pious  song  was  ended.  Then  they  all  arose  with 
uncovered  heads,  the  aged  with  holy  aspirations  and 
the  young  with  damp  resignation  receiving  the  bap- 
tism of  evening  dew,  and  listened  to  a  prayer,  within 
the  ample  verge  of  which  was  comprehended  a  citation 
of  all  the  wants  and  woes  in  mind,  body  or  estate  of 
each  individual  present ;  a  thanksgiving  for  the  mercies 
and  benefits  of  the  past  day  ;  and  a  petition  for  care 
and  protection  during  the  coming  hours  of  repose. 
Nothing  appeared  to  be  forgotten  ;  not  even  the  acci- 
dental killing  of  a  gray  squirrel  and  the  destruction  of 
a  four  foot  snake.  But  whether  the  latter  was  acci- 
dental or  otherwise  the  prayer  seemed  to  leave  in 
doubt ;  the  equivocation  probably  arising  from  the  cir- 
cumstance that  the  snake  was  forced  to  bid  adieu  to 
this  happy  life  at  the  particular  instance  of  the  vener- 
able leader  himself 

And  why  is  it,  that  snakes  are  so  universally  feared 
and  detested?  Many  of  them  are  among  the  most 
graceful  and  beautiful  of  the  whole  animal  creation. 
Some  are  in  a  peculiar  sense  fliscinating.  And  with 
very  few  exceptions  they  are  timid  and  entirely  harm- 


32  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

less.  It  seems  as  if  the  nniversal  horror  of  them  among 
us  could  only  arise  from  some  fancied  counection  with 
thdt  old  serpent,  the  devil  —  though  many  who  profess 
no  fear  of  the  devil  are  yet  afraid  of  snakes.  The  hor- 
ror lies  in  education,  not  in  nature,  for  the  Indians  and 
many  uncivilized  people  rather  fancy  them  as  compan- 
ions. A  question  arises:  Is  it  right  to  kill  harmless 
snakes  ?  The  writer  was  once  w^alking  in  the  woods 
with  a  clergyman  when  a  large  glossy  snake,  beauti- 
fully marked  with  gay  colors  crossed  the  path.  Our 
clerical  friend  by  an  instant  blow  with  his  cane  disa- 
bled him.  Following  up  the  blow,  by  others,  vigor- 
ously applied,  the  reptile  soon  lay  writhing  piteously. 
But  during  all  this  exercise  the  godly  man  was  declar- 
ing that  he  had  never  been  able  to  satisfy  himself  that 
it  was  right  to  kill  harmless  snakes.  As  lookers  on,  we 
could  not  avoid  the  reflection  that  it  would  be  most 
satisfictory  to  the  snake  to  have  such  violent  proceed- 
ings suspended  till  the  question  in  casuistry  was  set- 
tled. But  the  reptile  ghost  was  soon  yielded  up  and- 
there  the  matter  ended. 

Most  of  the  serpent  kind  undoubtedly  possess  great 
cunning  and  manage  their  little  transactions  with  birds, 
toads,  mice  and  such  savory  flesh  w'ith  great  shrewd- 
ness. And  that  they  possess  extraordinary  domestic 
attachments  seems  not  to  admit  of  doubt.  It  is  said 
that  the  male  and  female  will  sometimes  even  die  for 
each  other.  The  writer  once  had  occasion  to  notice  a 
really  pathetic  instance.  A  workman  on  his  premises 
killed  a  large  black  snake,  and  was  r^pquested  to  let  the 
body  remain  exposed,  to  ascertain  if  a  companion 
would  not  soon  appear.  Watch  was  kept  and  in  a  few 
days  a  snake  of  the  same  kind  and  of  similar  size  ap- 
peared.    An  unsuccessful  effort  was  made  to  capture 


ZACHARIAH    HART.  33 

liim ;  and  after  a  few  days  more  he  was  seen  so  fre- 
quently as  to  make  it  seem  as  if  he  had  taken  up  his 
abode  thereabout,  resolutely  determined  to  effect  some- 
thing. But  he  was  finally  found  lying  exposed  near  a 
frequented  path,  not  fiir  from  the  now  decaying  remains 
of  the  other,  and  manifesting  no  disposition  to  escape. 
He  was  easily  despatched,  making  no  attempt  to  avoid 
the  fatal  blows.  The  whole  thing  appeared  so  much 
as  if  he  had  come  in  search  of  his  lost  companion,  had 
found  her,  and  being  satisfied  that  she  was  dead,  was 
ready  to  throw  his  own  life  away,  as  to  be  really 
touching. 

But  to  proceed.  The  prayer  ended.  It  was  from 
an  honest  and  faithful  heart.  And  though  for  these 
many  years,  near  half  a  score  of  churches,  or  meeting 
houses,  as  the  old  puritans  would  'prefer  to  call  them, 
have  stood  almost  within  a  stone's  throw  of  that  hal- 
lowed spot,  never  has  an  evening  breath  borne  up  a 
petition  more  heartfelt  and  effectual. 

Of  the  habitation  which  was  the  product  of  that  day's 
toil  a  word  may  be  said.  It  was  formed  of  the  trunks 
of  trees,  interlaced  with  green  branches,  savory  in 
their  smell  but  dampening  in  their  effects.  And  it  un- 
fortunately turned  out,  too,  that  not  being  acquainted 
with  the  botany  of  the  region  they  had  interwoven  a 
considerable  quantity  of  poisonous  material,  which 
presently  laid  up  about  half  of  the  company.  This 
untoward  event  was  of  course  set  down  as  another  of 
Satan's  contrivances  to  harrass  and  terrify  them. 

The  structure  was  sufficiently  capacious  to  accom- 
modate a  score  or  upwards  with  shelter,  comfortable 
or  otherwise,  as  each  might  determine  for  himself. 
The  male  and  female  departments  were  separated  by  a 
partition  of  branches  and  fern,  diversified  here  and 
B*  3 


34  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

there  by  a  more  opaque  patcli  of  blanket  or  garment. 
No  chimney  or  fireplace  was  necessary,  as  the  cooking 
could  well  be  done  without,  in  nature's  great  kitchen; 
and  there  also,  as  to  that  matter,  could  the  eating  be 
done.  And  besides,  this  caravansary-like  structure  as 
has  before  appeared  was  designed  only  for  temporary 
purposes.  When  at  evening  it  was  illuminated  by  the 
red  light  of  numerous  flaring  pine  knots  it  made  quite 
a  hospitable  appearance  ;  and  was  sufficiently  attractive 
to  draw  the  friendly  attention  of  myriads  of  mosquitos. 
And  during  the  night,  also,  sundry  wild  animals  seemed 
to  think  it  polite  to  make  calls  on  the  new  comers. 
Among  them  was  a  gentlemanly  bear,  whose  curiosity 
was  so  far  excited  that  in  addition  to  snuffing  and  rub- 
bing his  nose  against^^the  posts,  he  undertook  to  ascer- 
tain the  strength  of  the  erection  by  the  strength  of  his 
claws,  not  once  appearing  to  dream  that  Roger  Conant 
was  there,  that  he  had  a  gun,  and  that  the  gun  was 
loaded  and  liable  to  go  off.  He  was  greatly  astonished 
when  the  weapon  was  discharged  directly  in  his  face, 
and  more  astonished  still  when  he  found  himself  flayed 
and  hanging  from  a  walnut  tree  limb,  with  Zachariah 
Hart,  bloody  knife  in  hand,  viewing  him  by  the  light 
of  a  lantern  and  with  grinning  satisfaction  declaring 
his  weakness  for  fat  bear  steak.  This  certainly  did  not 
seem  to  be  doing  the  handsome  thing  by  one  of  the 
first  neighbors  who  had  the  politeness  to  call.  But 
those  imperiled  old  pioneers  were  not  in  a  situation  to 
yield  much  to  considerations  of  mere  courtesy. 

The  night  was  balmy  and  brilliant.  And  different 
indeed  were  the  surroundings  from  which  our  Httle 
colony  were  to  receive  their  first  impressions  from 
those  which  encompassed  their  forlorn  brethren  wtien 
first  landing  at  Plymouth.     There,  the  wintry  winds 


ZACHARIAH   HART.  35 

howled  and  the  drifting  snows  danced  eddies,  while 
the  leafless  old  branches  creaked  a  surly  welcome. 
Here,  the  summer  breeze  gambolled  among  the  sweet 
fern  and  blushing  flowers,  while  ihfi  unfettered  moun- 
tain rill  and  the  gay  bird  warbled  their  compliments. 

Such  is  a  brief  history  of  the  first  day  of  this  now 
famous  City  of  Lynn;  so  famous  that  even  a  railroad 
locomotive  bears  its  name.  We  look  down  the  shadowy 
vista  of  antiquity,  and  behold  the  lusty  host  who  came 
with  battle  axes  and  trumpets  to  lay  the  foundation 
stones  of  Babylon  ;  upon  the  bearded  band,  with  broad 
phylacteries,  who  toiled  in  uprooting  the  olive  trees 
that  Jerusalem  might  be  built;  upon  the  strong  armed 
adventurers  who  labored  in  cementing  the  basement 
walls  of  Rome.  But  nowhere  can  we  find  a  nobler 
band  than  those  who  toiled  and  sweat  on  the  moment- 
ous occasion  just  noticed.  Their  limbs  were  nerved 
by  the  beautiful  sunshine  of  early  summer,  and  their 
hearts  inspired  by  the  more  beautiful  sunshine  of 
christian  hope. 

Zachariah  Hart,  the  subject  of  the  present  biograph- 
ical sketch  was  one  of  the  most  active  and  consequen- 
tial personages  among  that  pioneer  band,  though  not 
the  leader,  as  has  before  appeared.  He  was  at  this 
time  a  man  of  middle  age,  in  form  extremely  well  de- 
veloped, and  endowed  with  great  physical  strength  and 
courage.  His  well  tried  powers  soon  pointed  him  out 
as  the  most  suitable  person  in  the  settlement  to  con- 
duct the  wolf  and  bear  hunting  expeditions.  Indeed, 
he  stood  foremost  in  all  perilous  enterprises ;  and  the 
Indians  soon  came  to  stand  more  in  fear  of  him  than  of 
any  other  man  with  a  white  face  ;  not  to  say  that  his 
was  very  white,  for  all  the  lower  parts  remained  an 
unreclaimed  jungle  of  hair,  while  above,  appeared  a 


36  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

sunburnt  region  resembling  a  mixture  of  Spanish  brown 
and  beach  sand. 

We  spoke  of  his  activity.  But  that  was  not  his 
greatest  virtue.  He  was  persevering,  unmurmuring; 
and,  under  every  discouragement,  kept  his  spirits  up ; 
not  in  the  way  that  some  of  his  neighbors  did,  by  pour- 
ing spirits  down,  but  by  constant  and  useful  occupa- 
tion. How  many  unfortunate  ones  there  are,  who, 
conceiving  themselves  born  to  ill  luck,  sit  down  dis- 
heartened, and  pass  their  days  in  repining  indolence. 
Ten  to  one,  they  never  deserved  success.  And  no  one 
ought  to  complain  of  evil  fortune  if  he  never  did  any 
thing  to  deserve  good  fortune.  What  a  useful  example 
did  Mr.  Hart  present  for  the  contemplation  of  such 
grumblers. 

But  our  Subject  was  by  no  means  a  perfect  man. 
We  feel  bound  to  state  this,  as  by  setting  him  up  too 
high,  we  might  discourage  those  who  would  perceive 
the  hopelessness  of  emulating  unattainable  virtues.  He 
had  one  leading  vice  ;  and  that  being  patent,  it  may  be 
inferred  that  otherwise  he  was  comparatively  guiltless, 
for  it  is  seldom  that  more  than  one  great  vice  inhabits 
a  human  heart  at  the  same  time.  Metaphorically  speak- 
ing, the  hounds  of  the  nether  world  are  not  accustomed 
to  hunt  in  couples.  The  grievous  vice  to  which  we 
allude,  was  the  inordinate  love  of  tobacco,  or  "ye  vile 
weed  tabakka  "  as  it  was  called  in  his  day.  His  indul- 
gence of  this  evil  habit  was  bad  for  the  morals  of  those 
around  him ;  and  the  dreuling  evidence  of  it,  which 
sometimes  appeared  when  he  was  earnestly  wrestling 
with  his  perplexing  duties,  was  bad  for  their  stomachs. 

Of  the  learning  of  Mr.  Hart,  enough  has  already 
been  said.  And  of  his  piety  it  may  be  remarked  that 
it  was  of  that  rigid,  dogmatical  and  uncompromising 


ZACHARIAH   HART.  37 

character,  that  rendered  him  unfit  to  undertake  a  mis- 
sionary enterprise,  or  to  lead  in  a  community  of  intel- 
ligent minds. 

Before  Mr.  Batchellor,  the  first  minister,  came,  Mr. 
Hart  exercised  his  gifts  as  preacher  and  exhorter, 
to  quite  as  great  an  extent  as  was  acceptable,  in  an 
informal  way.  And  a  Mormon  prophet  would  not 
have  been  more  egotistical  or  denunciatory  than  he. 
But  on  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Batchellor  he  gracefully 
retired,  leaving  the  sacred  field  to  be  occupied  by  one 
more  learned  and  disciplined,  indeed,  but  yet  hardly 
better  endowed  in  view  of  the  virtues  of  patience  and 
humility. 

The  services  that  Mr.  Hart  rendered  the  infant  set- 
tlement were  very  great  and  worthy  of  remembrance. 
On  two  occasions,  in  severe  winter  weather,  when 
provisions  were  scanty  and  supplies  not  to  be  obtained 
from  any  of  the  neighboring  settlements,  he  traveled 
on  foot  to  the  Plymouth  colony  and  successfully  nego- 
tiated for  what  was  needed. 

He  was  once  chief  actor,  or  equal  actor  with  his  four 
footed  antagonist,  at  a  cave  near  Sadler's  Rock,  in  a 
•scene  much  like  that  at  Pomfret  from  which  old  Put- 
nam gained  such  laurels.  But  he  did  not,  like  the  hero 
of  Pomfret,  come  unscathed  from  the  conflict.  A  mag- 
nificent wound  adorned  his  breast,  which  as  it  healed, 
left  a  noble  scar.  This  good  fortune  took  some  of  the 
lustre  from  the  old  scar  on  the  forehead. 

Mr.  Hart  died  at  the  good  old  age  of  three  score  and 
twelve  years.  He  was  the  father  of  a  family  of  four, 
two  hopeful  sons  and  as  many  aspiring  daughters. 
And  they,  in  turn,  became  fathers  and  mothers.  Sev- 
eral of  his  descendants  were  of  some  account  in  the 
world. 


38  NOTABLE   PEOPLE, 

Among  them  were  brave  Harts,  for  two  took  the 
field  in  the  great  King  Philip  war,  and  four  in  the 
Revolution :  bewitching  Harts,  for  one  dame  was  im- 
prisoned, in  1692,  for  practicing  witchcraft  on  Mr.  Shep- 
ard's  maid,  and  another  turned  the  head  of  a  lieutenant 
governor  by  not  returning  his  love  :  learned  Harts,  for 
two  were  lawyers,  two  doctors,  four  schoolmasters  and 
two  traveling  lecturers:  great  Harts,  for  one  weighed 
four  hundred  pounds,  and  another  was  seven  feet  tall. 

John  Hart,  one  of  the  signers  of  the  declaration  of 
independence,  seems  to  have  been  a  descendant  of 
Zachariah,  he  having  proceeded  from  a  scion  that  was 
at  an  early  period  lopped  from  the  Third  Plantation 
stock  and  planted  in  New  Jersey. 

Another  descendant,  a  century  or  so  since,  by  a  for- 
tunate matrimonial  alliance,  became  connected  with  a 
titled  and  wealthy  old  English  family.  That  family 
seems  now  on  its  last  legs,  and  those  somewhat  attenu- 
ated, there  being  but  a  solitary  individual  remaining, 
and  he  nearly  four  score  years  of  age.  So  it  may  not 
be  long  before  those  of  the  Hart  line,  hereabout,  may 
have  an  opportunity  to  devote  a  portion  of  their  spare 
change  to  feeing  agents  and  attornies  to  look  after 
shares  in  a  large  estate  in  the  old  country  that  goes 
begging  for  heirs.  And  it  is  hoped  that  they  may  be 
more  successful  than  such  phantom  chasers  usually  are. 

Edm.  Hart,  architect  of  the  Constitution  —  we  mean 
the  frigate,  not  the  political  constitution  —  was  a  Lynn 
man,  though  we  are  not  sure  that  he  was  of  the  Zacha- 
riah lineage.  He  certainly  did  honor  to  the  place  of  his 
birth  as  well  as  to  himself,  by  his  skill  and  faithfulness. 
And  it  must  be  concluded  that  he  did  not  swindle  gov- 
ernment much,  through  the  contract,  for  he  lived  in 
those  unsophisticated  days  when  it  was  not  customary 


ZACHARIAH    HART.  39 

for  every  one  to  look  upon  government  as  a  fat  goose 
made  ready  for  all  to  pick ;  particularly  as  he  died  in 
moderate  circumstances. 

Another  descendant  was  Alpheus  Hart,  who  had  an 
extensive  orchard  just  about  where  the  central  rail 
road  station  now  is.  He  made  great  quantities  of 
cider  for  the  Boston  and  Salem  markets ;  and  when  he 
got  a  little  muddled,  in  trying  the  quality,  was  for 
stirring  up  mischief  generally.  He  was  several  times 
put  in  the  stocks,  near  the  meeting  house,  and  other- 
wise kindly  dealt  with,  but  apparently  to  little  purpose. 
But  finally,  all  of  a  sudden,  a  new  fountain  seemed  to 
spring  up  in  him.  He  came  out  a  warm  politician ; 
bought  a  new  suit  of  clothes  ;  left  off  drinking ;  remov- 
ed to  Reading ;  and  ultimately  became  a  shining  light 
in  the  General  Court.  Thus  presenting  a  most  aston- 
ishing metamorphosis.  Politics  generally  ruins  ;  here 
it  saved.  Perhaps,  however,  the  salvation  is  to  be 
attributed  to  something  else,  and  that  it  should  be  said 
he  was  saved  in  spite  of  his  politics. 

Another  descendant  of  Mr.  Hart  attained  a  high 
position  at  Boston,  some  scores  of  years  since,  but 
came  down  with  such  a  jerk  that  his  spine  was  dislo- 
cated. And  that  was  the  end  of  him.  Indeed,  the 
family  history  of  Mr.  Hart  is  not  very  flattering ;  but 
yet  it  is  no  doubt  true  that  they  have  turned  out  quite 
as  good  as  the  average  of  families.  And  there  is  a 
sort  of  negative  comfort  in  that. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  unyielding  nature  of  Mr. 
Hart's  religious  principles.  But  there  was  one  occa- 
sion on  which  he  was  in  imminent  hazard  of  deviating. 
And  that  was  when  the  celebrated  Mrs.  Hutchinson 
held  her  meeting  at  Lynn,  in  1636 ;  of  which  it  will 
probably  be  in  our  way  to  give  some  account  on  a 


40  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

subsequent  page.  It  may  be,  however,  that  he  was 
ensnared  more  by  her  personal  charms  than  her  doc- 
trines. 

And  speaking  of  Mrs.  Hutchinson  leads  us  to  allude 
to  the  inconsistencies  of  which  so  much  has  been 
said,  as  strongly  marking  the  character  of  the  puritan 
settlers.  If  they  claimed  that  their  object  in  coming 
here  was  to  enjoy  liberty  of  conscience,  they  certainly 
did  not  seem  to  think  the  same  liberty  desirable  for 
others.  On  that  ground  alone  can  their  treatment  of 
this  lady  and  her  adherents,  as  well  as  their  violent 
proceedings  against  the  Quakers,  Baptists  and  others, 
be  explained.  This  was  a  curious  kind  of  religious 
liberty ;  and  in  what  way  it  was  an  illustration  of  the 
godly  principle  better  than  the  English  or  even  the 
Romish  church  afforded,  it  would  puzzle  one  to  deter- 
mine. But,  for  reasons  that  may  presently  appear,  the 
reader  is  reminded  that  there  were  substantial  diifer- 
ences  in  several  important  respects  between  the  Ply- 
mouth and  Massachusetts  settlers.  And  no  doubt 
many  individual  immigrants  of  character,  themselves 
misunderstood  the  real  objects  of  the  patentees. 

The  first  members  of  the  Bay  Colony,  as  a  general 
thing,  Avere  superior  to  those  of  the  Plymouth.  The 
settlement  of  Massachusetts  was  commenced  under  a 
well-ordered  emigration,  in  which  not  a  few  of  the 
leading  people  of  the  mother  country  were  interested. 
And  the  purpose  was  to  found  an  orderly  and  prosper- 
ous commonwealth,  as  well  as  to  secure  an  asylum 
from  persecution. 

Some  of  the  first  who  came  here  were  persons  of 
dignity  and  influence  at  home,  eminent  for  political 
sagacity  and  learning  as  well  as  for  piety.  And  not  a 
few   were   ambitious   in  a  worldly  way.     The    immi- 


ZACHARIAH   HART.  41 

grants  weie  liberally  provided  with  things  necessary 
for  their  comfort  and  prosperity.  Some  of  them  were 
not  Puritans  but  Episcopalians,  and  hence  did  not 
come  to  avoid  persecution  for  their  religion ;  a  fact 
which  has  been  made  strange  use  of  by  some  histo- 
rians. But  the  number  of  churchmen  was  not  by  any 
means  sufficient  to  change  the  character  of  the  settle- 
ments from  that  of  genuine  puritanism, —  puritanism 
characterized  by  the  most  rigid  demands,  as  we  have 
seen. 

The  earhest  settlers  of  Plymouth,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  of  more  equal  condition  and  religious  character  ; 
a  forlorn  band,  destitute  and  depressed,  fleeing  from 
evils  against  which  they  had  little  power  to  contend, 
and  seeking  an  asylum  where  they  might  pass  their 
lives  in  peace,  pondering  upon  the  great  matters  of 
revealed  truth,  and  repressing  all  aspirations  of  the 
worldly  heart  after  temporal  greatness  and  renown. 
And  no  shade  of  suspicion  has  been  cast  upon  the  pu- 
rity of  their  puritanism. 

We  cannot  follow  Mrs.  Hutchinson  through  her  ca- 
reer, brief  though  it  was,  of  exaltation  and  adversity, 
to  its  calamitous  termination.  Her  teachings  created 
a  ferment  that  threatened  to  tear  asunder  the  very 
fi'ame  of  government.  But  it  seems  as  if  the  mischief 
might  have  been  easily  avoided.  Had  the  authorities 
proceeded  in  a  different  manner,  and  as  the  authorities 
of  this  day  would  proceed,  little  trouble,  one  would 
think,  could  have  ensued.  The  Come-outers,  as  they 
were  called,  who  created  some  disturbance  here  in 
Essex  county  about  the  year  1840,  were  dealt  with  in 
that  sensible  way  that  caused  them  soon  to  disappear. 
And  what  we  say  in  regard  to  the  mistake  in  the  Avay 
of  proceeding  against  this  woman  may  perhaps  apply 


42  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

with  equal  force  to  the  proceedings  against  the  Qua- 
kers and  Baptists. 

The  mistake  made  by  the  old  puritan  authorities 
seems  to  have  been  in  proceeding  against  Mrs.  Hutch- 
inson as  a  teacher  of  false  doctrine  ;  in  denouncing  her 
opinions  as  heresies  and  herself  as  a  heretic  ;  instead 
of  directly  charging  her  with  breaking  a  positive  law, 
if  she  were  guilty  of  so  doing,  and  requiring  her  to 
answer,  like  any  other  law  breaker,  before  the  estab- 
lished courts.  By  charging  her  with  being  a  dissemi- 
nator of  erroneous  doctrine,  they  opened  the  great 
questions  of  right  of  conscience  and  religious  liberty. 
And  they  also  opened  the  door  for  an  examination  of 
the  doctrine  taught,  as  well  as  a  channel  througli  which 
might  flow  in  upon  her  the  sympathy  of  enlightened 
minds,  for  there  were  those  around  her,  imbued  with 
the  spirit  of  true  religious  liberty.  In  this  case,  the 
course  pursued  by  the  authorities  was  certainly  the 
most  troublesome  one  for  themselves  ;  for  she  was  un- 
questionably a  woman  of  strong  and  subtile  mind,  fer- 
vid and  chaste  eloquence,  charitable  and  pure  life. 

Governor  Vane  —  of  whose  visit  to  Lynn  we  shall 
have  something  to  say,  a  few  pages  hence  —  as  well 
as  other  eminent  men,  earnestly  sympathised  with  Mrs. 
Hutchinson.  His  views  of  true  liberty  appear  to  have 
been  in  some  respects  in  advance  of  the  views  of  those 
around  him,  and  he  had  nerve  enough  to  withstand 
almost  any  pressure.  And  had  he  remained  longer  in 
the  country  he  might  have  averted  the  terrible  fate  that 
finally  overtook  that  persecuted  woman. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  superiority  of  some  of  the 
early  immigrants  under  the  Massachusetts  patent — em- 
inent people,  whose  footprints  on  the  virgin  soil  of 
New  England  can  never  be  effaced.     Vane  was  one  of 


ZACHARIAH   HAET.  43 

these.  And  hy  giving  a  few  glimpses  of  his  character 
and  course  we  shall  shed  light  upon  some  features  of 
the  past. 

Sir  Henry  Vane,  though  perhaps  we  should  omit 
the  Sir,  as  he  was  not  knighted  till  after  his  return  to 
England,  it  will  be  recollected,  was  the  fourth  Gov- 
ernor under  the  first  charter — or  we  might  say  the 
fifth,  for  Matthew  Cradock  was  chosen  by  the  Company 
in  England,  though  he  never  came  over —  having  been 
elected  in  1G36  ;  at  which  time  he  was  but  twenty-four 
years  of  age,  and  had  been  in  the  country  but  about  a 
year.  And  though  he  remained  here  for  a  short  time 
only,  he  will  be  remembered  as  long  as  interest  in  our 
history  shall  be  felt.  In  him,  however,  were  united 
great  contrarieties  of  character.  And  his  official  life 
here  was  turbulent  and  on  the  whole  anything  but 
satisfactory.  His  subsequent  career  in  England  has 
furnished  the  theme  for  many  a  puzzling  as  Avell  as 
glowing  passage  in  the  history  of  his  time.  Hume, 
Clarendon,  Hallam,  Burnet,  Macintosh  and  others  give 
sketches  of  his  character  and  opinions  of  his  writings, 
and  it  is  quite  amusing  to  observe  their  differences. 
In  their  attempts  to  analyse  his  character  they  seem  to 
be  engaged  in  a  most  embarrassing  task,  and  rather 
ready,  each,  to  seize  upon  this  or  that  prominent  point 
and  thence  take  a  general  view. 

Milton,  in  a  poetic  panegyric,  calls  Vane  the  eldest 
son  of  Religion.  But  the  sayings  of  Milton  are  cer- 
tainly of  little  value,  when  his  temper  and  peculiar 
principles  come  in  play.  His  passions  seem  to  have 
led  to  a  bewilderment  in  controversy  ;  while  in  poetry, 
all  mankind  admit  he  was  sublime.  Macintosh  pro- 
nounces Vane  scarcely  inferior  to  Bacon  in  mental 
endowment. 


'44  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

Vane  belonged  to  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
families  in  the  kingdom,  was  highly  educated,  and  had 
travelled  in  the  continental  countries  before  coming  to 
America.  He  had  also  been  early  called  into  associa- 
tion with  leading  personages.  King  Charles  himself 
was  occasionally  entertained  in  feudal  pomp  at  Raby 
Castle,  the  home  of  the  Vanes. 

While  yet  a  mere  stripling,  as  it  were,  Vane  became 
firmly  set  in  puritan  principles.  This  created  much 
grief,  and  the  celebrated  Archbishop  Laud  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  task  of  endeavoring  to  lead  back  his 
straying  feet  to  the  fold  of  the  establishment.  But  all 
efforts  to  reclaim  him  were  unsuccessful.  His  father 
was  a  member  of  the  privy  council,  and  felt  much  dis- 
tressed at  the  estrangement  of  his  son.  And  when  the 
young  man  announced  his  determination  to  join  the 
puritans  in  America,  all  but  coercive  measures  were 
looked  to  for  his  detention.  But  the  king  rather  ap- 
proved of  his  design,  probably  thinking  that  he  might 
be  less  troublesome  here  than  at  home,  and  parental 
desire  succumbed  to  regal. 

Hither  he  came^  but,  as  before  intimated,  remained 
a  short  time  only  ;  sufficiently  long,  however,  to  create 
a  great  ferment  among  the  political  and  religious  ele- 
ments. After  his  return  to  England  his  restless  soul 
continued  to  work  among  the  loftier  interests  of  man- 
kind. But  we  cannot  follow  his  course  there.  It  is 
sufficient  to  remark  that  he  became  a  member  of  Par- 
liment  as  early  as  1640,  and  held  various  high  official 
'positions,  sometimes  with  honor  to  himself  and  profit 
to  the  people ;  and  sometimes  to  the  injury  of  both. 
Brilliant  and  yet  perplexing  passages  appear  all  along 
his  course  till  its  termination  on  the  scaffold,  in  June 
1662.     He  had  taken  an  active  part  in  the  affairs  of 


ZACHAEIAH   HART.  45 

the  Commonwealth,  though  opposed  to  Cromwell,  who 
uttered  many  bitter  things  against  him,  induced,  prob- 
ably, by  the  circumstance  that  he  would  not  aid  in 
schemes  for  the  personal  aggrandizement  of  the  Pro- 
tector. And  he  was  beheaded  for  treason  to  the  mon- 
archy. No  doubt  he  was  a  republican,  and  desired  to 
establish  a  republic.  And  hence,  in  the  settlement  of 
accounts  at  the  Restoration  his  head  was  required. 
At  least  the  vacillating  monarch  seemed  to  think  so. 

One  of  the  most  deeply  regretted  occurrences  of 
Vane's  life  appears  to  have  been  the  strange  affair  of 
the  "  red  velvet  cabinet."  Its  startling  effect  on  the 
fortunes  of  the  Earl  of  Strafford,  and  the  grievous  es- 
trangement it  produced  between  him  and  his  noble 
father,  are  well  known  to  the  reader  of  English  history. 
View  it  as  we  may  it  was  a  deep  stain  upon  his  honor. 
True,  Parliament  undertook  to  purge  it  of  dishonor  by 
a  vote.  But  funny  things  are  sometimes  done  by  vote. 
A  Roman  council  once  voted  Jupiter's  satellites  out 
of  heaven.  And  the  French  Convention  voted  the 
Almighty  out  of  the  universe. 

Some  worthy  writers  have  spoken  of  Vane's  conduct 
as  fanatical  and  ruinous  in  its  tendency ;  of  his  princi- 
ples as  variable  and  often  dangerous ;  of  his  writings 
as  confused  and  contradictory.  But  he  must  have 
been  a  man  of  commanding  talents,  or  he  could  not 
have  sustained  himself  in  such  positions  as  he  occu- 
pied. It  is,  without  doubt,  however,  well  that  he  did 
not  long  remain  in  the  colony ;  for  his  persevering 
wilfulness  certainly  would  have  stirred  up  dangerous 
if  not  fatal  disturbances. 

Soon  after  he  was  elected  Governor,  Vane  made  a 
tour  to  the  eastern  towns.  On  the  ninth  of  July  he 
entered  Lynn.     Everybody  turned   out,  and  a  great 


46  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

parade  took  place.  Finding  an  account  in  the  journal 
of  Obadiah  Turner  we  cannot  do  better  than  adopt  it: 

"  Y®  morning  being  faire  Govn'^  Vane  and  hjs  compa- 
nie  appeared  betimes  wthin  y®  towne,  all  on  horse 
backe,  &  making  some  show  of  armes,  as  swords,  mus- 
quettes,  and  halberds.  Likewise  behinde  them  walked 
some  Indjans,  stepping  verie  proudlie,  gaylie  painted, 
and  haveing  many  coloured  eagle  feathers  vpon  their 
heads  and  scarlitt  &  yellow  cloths  about  their  bodies. 
And  in  their  hands  they  carried  tommyhawkes  and 
speares,  and  some  long  pipes.  A  lustie  trumpeter  did 
goe  before  y^  Govn'  whose  blasts  did  ringe  in  y® 
woodes  wth  such  a  mightie  ringe  as  seemed  enow  to 
shake  down  y®  walls  of  anie  Indjan  Jericho.  His  trum- 
pett  was  of  shining  brass  and  he  was  begirt  wth  a  red 
sash  and  had  a  cap  of  bear  skin  so  mighty  in  size,  y* 
seeminglie  he  was  more  head  than  bodie.  Y®  trumpett 
advertised  all  y®  people  y*  y"  Govn""  was  with  vs,  and 
there  was  presentlie  mch  running  to  behold  him. 

"  At  y*'  house  of  Goodman  Dextor  they  did  halt  to 
recruit  somewhat,  by  meate  and  drinke.  And  thither 
did  manie  assemble  to  make  their  dutiful  obeisance. 
Y®  Govn'"  was  very  gratious,  tho  grave  &  thotfuU,  and 
gaue  mch  godlie  counsell  wch  was  well  receaved. 
Zachariah  Harte  was  there,  all  y^  time,  making  hjm- 
self  verie  common,  as  he  would  faine  act  y®  parte  of 
usher.  And  he  must  needes  shake  hands  over  and 
over  with  y"  Govn""  and  secretaire  bidding  them  wel- 
come againe  and  againe.  He  would  have  all  y*  men 
and  women  make  their  respects.  Likewise  he  seized 
y*  children  &  took  them  in  his  armes  to  y®  Govn''  that 
hee  might  speake  to  them  and  chuck  them  vnder  y® 
chinn. 

"  Y®  stale  of  y®  Govn'  was  so  prolonged  y*  most  had 


ZACHARIAH   HART.  47 

time  to  appeare.  And  seeminglie  hee  was  much 
pleased  wth  hjs  entertainment,  making  manie  inqviries 
regarding  our  affaires ;  in  a  particular  manner  touch- 
ing our  gospel  priviledges,  our  husbandrie,  our  fish- 
eries, and  our  defences  against  y^  sauvages  and  other 
potent  adversaries,  roareing  devills  and  all  y*  would 
distress  God  his  people.  And  he  did  discourse  pleas- 
antlie  of  our  future  increase,  saying  y*  this  bee  a  most 
goodlie  inheritance,  wth  noble  woodes  and  fields  and 
waters  wth  aboundance  of  savorie  fish  ;  and  needing 
nothing  save  stoute  heartes  and  strong  hands  to  make 
y®  place  one  of  great  prosperitie,  wch  jt  must  in  time 
surelie  come  to  bee.  And  God  bee  praised  y*  jt 
is  soe. 

"  Thomas  Newhall  hee  did  make  some  discovrse  to 
y®  Govn'",  informing  of  our  dutifull  love  to  him  and 
hopes  of  mch  good  from  hjs  godlie  life  and  expe- 
riences. And  hee  made  known  to  y*^  Govtf  y*  tho  wee 
did  not  make  discharge  of  ordnance  on  his  comeing,  as 
y*  people  of  Salem  would  likelie  doe  on  hjs  entering 
theire  towne,  jt  was  not  from  haveing  a  mind  against 
soe  doeing,  but  because  wee  had  not  y"  meanes  Avhere- 
with  to  acquit  ourselves  of  y*  honor,  y'^  people  of 
Salem  haveing  y^  daie  before  sent  over  for  y®  big  gunn 
wch  we  had  borrowed  from  them. 

"  When  y®  Govn""  and  his  companie  would  proceed 
they  were  detained  somewhat  at  y*^  river  crossing  by 
reason  of  a  parte  of  y®  bridge  haveing  of  a  sudden 
broke  downe.  So  wee  mvst  needes  gather  hastilie 
wth  our  axes  and  other  tooles  to  repaire  y''  damage, 
they  patientlie  waiting  y®  while.  While  y®  worke  was 
going  brisklie  on,  Zachariah  Harte  hee  fell  into  y® 
riuer  and  wee  were  some  putt  to  jt  to  get  him  oute. 
And  when  wee  had  him  oute  y^  bonie  tayl  of  a  horse 


48  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

shoe  crab  was  sticking  through  his  nose.  But  no 
other  disaster  happened  on  y^  occacion,  and  presentlie 
they  were  all  safelie  ouer. 

"  Att  M''  Newhall  his  house  they  did  againe  halt, 
and  y*"  Govn"^  and  secretaire  going  in  did  hold  some 
private  discourse  wth  y®  grave  men  of  y®  towne,  wch 
being  ended  he  would  saie  something  more  on  y® 
greate  matters  of  religion,  and  it  be  given  oute  y*  he 
hath  some  views  not  soe  well  liking  to  manie  godlie 
people,  vpon  y^  keeping  of  y®  Lord  his  day  ;  for  they 
saie  he  doth  boldlie  declare  y*  there  be  no  warrant  of 
scripture  for  y^  observance  thereof;  saying  y*  all  must 
be  blind  who  doe  not  see  y*  what  wee  call  y^  Lord  his 
dale  is  but  a  festivall  established  by  y^  popish  church 
in  remembrance  of  y®  resurrection,  and  not  meant 
for  a  Sabbath ;  and  saying,  too,  y*  y"  great  archbishop 
Laud  declared  vnto  hjm  y'  soe  likewise  was  hjs  beliefe. 
He  thot  contrariwise  till  being  putt  vpon  examination, 
when  he  did  come  to  y®  same  mind  wth  y"'  bishop. 
But  our  Govn'  being  yet  young  and  some  giuen  to 
change  he  may  presently  come  oute  from  svch  oppin- 
ions.  Some  other  godlie  people  hereabout  have  laid 
holde  of  y^  same  notion,  and  where  these  things  will 
end  I  know  not;  y''  more  because  they  who  thvs 
thinke  be  of  y^  learned  and  wise.  But  wee  be  in  God 
his  hand  &  I  trust  no  evill  will  come  vppon  vs. 

"  Wee  finde  y°  Govn'^  trulie  a  man  of  partes  and  faire 
presence,  wth  learning  and  gravitie.  He  hath  bin  in  y^ 
greate  school  of  Geneva.  But  I  must  saie  y*  he  doth 
mch  loue  to  doe  things  in  his  own  waie,  &  dispiseth 
covnsel ;  wch  T  greatlie  feare  will  presentlie  lead  to 
trouble  and  strife. 

"  When  they  had  againe  taken  meate  and  drinke,  y® 
Govn"^  mch  admiring  y^  sauce  of  craunberries  made  by 


ZACHARIAH    HART.  49 

Dame  Newball,  spreading  it  thick  vppon  his  bread, 
they  departed.  And  as  they  moued  along  wee  did 
make  readie  &  blast  divers  rockes,  wch  by  theire  loude 
reports  did  well  answer  for  ordnance. 

"In  y®  afternoone  wee  did  heare  y® noise  of  y'^  Salem 
cannon  wch  certified  vs  y*  y"^  Govn^  and  y®  others  had 
reached  y*  plantation.  So  ended  y®  great  ocacion  of 
Govn'^  Vane  his  comeing." 

To  return  to  Mr.  Hart.  He  does  not  appear  to  have 
accumulated  any  great  amount  of  this  world's  goods, 
but  he  always  lived  comfortably.  Perhaps  he  read  his 
Bible  enough  to  learn  the  danger  of  wealth. 

If  we  take  a  survey  of  the  community  we  shall  find 
it  the  same  now  that  it  was  in  Mr.  Hart's  rude  times, 
the  same  as  it  always  is,  in  regard  to  men's  character- 
istics. Some  live  within  their  means ;  some  up  to 
their  means  ;  some  up  to  their  expectations,  and  some 
up  to  their  hopes.  The  first  are  comfortable  and  se- 
cure; the  second  on  dangerous  ground;  and  the  others 
on  ground  that  is  quite  sure  occasionally  to  upheave 
disastrously.  Mr.  Hart  belonged  to  the  prudent  class. 
He  left  a  comely  homestead,  several  fair  acres,  a  share 
or  two  in  some  fishing  boats  and  lobster  nets,  a  cow, 
pigs,  poultry  and  a  famous  bear  trap  of  his  own 
invention. 

But  we  cannot  ask  the  reader  to  tarry  longer  in 
company  with  Mr.  Hart;  though  if  he  never  finds  him- 
self in  worse  company  he  will  be  remarkably  fortunate. 
We  must  dismiss  the  patriarch  by  simply  adding  that 
he  lived  to  see  this  community,  in  the  fostering  of 
whose  infancy  his  best  energies  had  been  spent,  and 
for  whose  prosperity  his  most  fervent  prayers  had 
been  offered,  in  a  flourishing  and  happy  condition. 
And  when  he  laid  down  to  his  everlasting  rest  there 
C  4 


50  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

were  kindred  to  weep  and  associates  to  hold  him  in 
grateful  remembrance.  There  was  not,  perhaps,  an 
individual  in  the  settlement  whose  loss  Avould  liave 
been  more  keenly  felt,  for  there  was  not  another  Avho 
could  so  readily  turn  his  hand  to  every  sort  of  useful 
labor,  or  who  had  better  judgment  in  directing  his  in- 
dustry. The  wintry  storms  di^  not  protect  the  hale 
old  trees  of  the  forest  from  his  sturdy  strokes  ;  nor  did 
the  melting  suns  of  summer,  so  enervating  to  the  early 
comers,  drive  him  from  the  field.  And  he  had  a  liberal 
share  of  that  courage,  perseverance  and  shrewdness 
from  which  our  boasted  Yankee  character  is  derived. 

Mr.  Hart  was  not  a  learned  man.  But  there  were 
enough  learned  ones  without  him.  And  the  success 
of  the  Plantation  was  in  a  great  measure  owing  to  the 
happy  intermingling  of  classes.  Had  all  directed  their 
attention  chiefly  to  intellectual  pursuits,  things  Avould 
soon  have  come  to  bought.  And,  on  the  other  hand, 
had  tbey  all  been  mere  workers,  without  some  trained 
intellects  to  counsel  and  direct,  poverty  and  servility 
would  have  characterized  these  days. 

We  repeat  that  Mr.  Hart  was  not  a  learned  man. 
But  the  learning  of  the  schools  does  not  always  make 
men  better.  True,  it  enables  them  to  do  more  good. 
But  it  also  enables  them  to  do  more  evil.  It  adds 
to  the  happiness  of  some ;  to  the  misery  of  others. 
The  common  schools  of  our  day  are  much  lauded. 
But  what  is  there  taught  in  them  save  that  which 
is  calculated  to  promote  mere  temporal  success?  Is 
not  moral  training  most  sadly  neglected  ?  And  is 
this  in  accordance  with  early  New  England  ways  ? 
Is  it  not  indisputably  true  that  the  people  of  this 
day  are  inclined  to  place  intellectual  culture  above 
moral?     And,  lastly,  is  that  the  right  thing? 


OBA.DIA.H    TURNER. 

♦*  With  honest  hearte  and  pleasantlie, 
the  chronicler  hath  writ; 
And  he  was  there  to  heare  and  see; 
soe  who  than  he  more  fit." 

The  next  of  our  worthies  of  earlier  date  to  be 
brought  into  notice  is  the  one  whose  name  is  placed 
above,  and  to  whom  we  have  already  more  than  once 
alluded.  He  appears  to  have  been  one  of  the  most 
energetic,  fair  minded  and  hopeful  of  the  personages 
present  at  the  laying  of  the  foundation  stones  of  this 
now  towering  community.  Of  his  personal  history, 
however,  we  know  but  little,  excepting  what  is  derived 
from  a  journal  which  he  appears  to  have  written  up 
with  much  care  and  diligence.  This  journal  is  now  of 
great  value  both  from  its  comprehensiveness  and  reli- 
ability. In  it,  we  find  recorded,  in  quaint  language, 
many  of  the  common  events  of  life  as  they  transpired 
among  our  forefathers.  It  may  be  spoken  of  as  a 
series  of  graphic  pictures,  illustrating  the  every  day 
life  of  the  early  settlers  and  the  circumstances  by 
which  they  were  surrounded.  And  Mr,  Turner  has 
agreeably  interspersed  his  details  of  facts  with  sage 
remarks,  keen  thrusts  and  frolicksome  delineations. 
He  evidently  had  a  mind  wakeful  to  objects  of  humor, 
and  the  usual  attendant,  a  vein  of  sentimentality.  He 
also  possessed  sound  judgment  and  a  clear  perception 

(51) 


52  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

of  the  duties  devolving  upon  those  who  attempt  to  lay- 
foundations  upon  which  are  to  rest  the  liberties  and 
rights  of  others. 

The  journal  of  Mr.  Turner  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
writer  by  one  of  those  fortunate  turns  that  sometimes 
happen  to  a  man,  to  wit,  the  turning  over  of  a  barrel 
of  old  papers.  And  said  turn  took  place  while  ransack- 
ing the  garret  of  an  aged  relative.  A  large  deposit 
was  found  of  collections  made  by  an  ancestor,  who 
seems  to  have  been  very  industrious  in  collecting  and 
preserving  whatever  related  to  colonial  days  earlier 
than  his  own.  We  might  perhaps  say  that  most  of  the 
historical  learning  of  a  local  character  developed  in 
these  pages,  was  derived  from  this  source.  In  some 
instances,  however,  labor  was  required  to  shape  it  for 
convenient  use.  Mr.  Turner  was  in  most  cases  very 
methodical  and  clear ;  yet  there  were  occasions  when 
his  pen  produced  such  involutions  as  are  not  easily 
unraveled.  But  we  cannot  speak  so  well  as  this  even 
of  most  of  the  other  manuscripts.  Mr.  Turner  appears 
to  have  been  quite  liberal  in  his  views  ;  so  much  so, 
indeed,  as  to  justify  the  suspicion  that  he  leaned  some- 
what towards  episcopacy.  But  yet  he  was  by  no 
means  free  from  the  notions  of  the  good  puritans  re- 
garding the  corporeal  onsets  of  the  Devil  and  the 
necessity  of  keeping  constantly  on  the  alert  to  avoid 
falling  into  the  snares  and  traps  set  all  about  by  satanic 
hands. 

In  the  journal  of  Mr.  Turner  we  find  few  of  those 
improbable  stories  of  perils  and  natural  wonders,  that 
most  of  the  early  writers  on  New  England  affairs  loved 
to  indulge  in.  They  certainly  endeavored  to  make 
the  most  of  wonders  ;  seeming  to  emulate  the  old 
Spaniards  in  their  accounts  of  Mexico  and  Peru.     It  is 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  53 

strange  that  historians  fall  into  such  errors ;  thus  bring- 
ing discredit  upon  themselves  and  suspicion  upon 
others.  It  were  better  for  one  even  to  omit  telling 
improbable  truths  than  to  be  so  careless  of  damaging 
his  character  for  veracity.  It  is  refreshing,  therefore, 
to  have  in  hand  such  a  work  as  that  in  question.  And 
we  bless  the  author's  memory  for  the  valuable  legacy 
to  posterity. 

Mr.  Turner  was  a  native  of  the  north  of  England,  and 
was  born,  it  appears,  in  the  year  1606.  He  seems  to 
have  come  here,  not  because  of  any  oppression  in  his 
own  country,  but,  like  many  others,  to  seek  his  fortune 
or  gratify  a  love  of  adventure.  And  he  appears,  soon 
after  his  arrival,  to  have  given  up  all  thought  of  re- 
turning to  his  native  land.  He  was  a  young  man  at 
the  time  of  his  advent  here  and  lived  to  the  good  old 
age  of  between  three  and  a  half  and  four  score  years. 
His  journal,  though  in  its  latter  pages  somewhat  im- 
perfect as  to  dates,  and  bearing  evidence  of  a  trem- 
bling hand  and  waning  light,  is  brought  down  to  the 
year  1681.  It  commences  in  1630;  thus  covering  a 
full  half  century. 

The  reader  will  not  understand  that  we  have  quoted 
in  full  or  invariably  preserved  the  original  order. 
Many  of  the  most  interesting  passages  have  been  en- 
tirely omitted,  for  the  reason  that  in  other  parts  of 
this  volume  the  same  subject  might  be  in  hand,  and  it 
is  an  object  to  avoid  unnecessary  repetition.  We 
mention  this,  lest  it  might  be  imagined  that  Mr.  Turner 
had  omitted  even  allusion  to  persons  and  events  which 
it  will  elsewhere  be  found  appeared  to  us  worthy  of 
being  brought  prominently  into  view.  It  is  really 
wonderful  how  few  things  of  importance,  escaped  the 
notice  of  the  worthy  and  wakeful  journalist.     Indeed 


'54  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

he  often  notes,  with  gratifying  minuteness,  matters 
which  at  the  time  must  have  appeared  to  be  of  httle 
moment. 

In  the  orthography  we  have  made  a  few  changes  for 
the  reason  that  the  original  spelHng  would,  in  those 
instances,  have  perplexed  the  reader.  And  occasion- 
ally a  slight  change  in  the  syntax  has  been  ventured 
on.  But  beyond  these,  we  have  endeavored  to  be 
faithful  to  the  text.  And  these  last  remarks  will  ap- 
ply to  extracts  which  we  have  introduced  from  other 
ancient  records  and  memoranda,  and  will  explain  what 
otherwise  might  appear  a  remarkable  similarity  of 
style ;  a  similarity  by  the  way,  which  will  much  aid 
the  reader.  In  writing,  different  individuals  seem  to 
have  pursued  systems  almost  peculiar  to  themselves, 
in  some  respects.  In  the  matter  of  abbreviations,  for 
instance,  from  the  earliest  times,  some  wrote  &,  y*,  y*, 
wch,  wth,  y°,  for  and^  the,  that,  which,  with,  you,  in  all 
cases;  others  spelled  the  words  in  full,  or  us-ed  the 
abbreviations  indiscriminately.  Some  seldom  or  never 
abbreviated ;  others  had  a  passion  for  abbreviating, 
and  acquitted  themselves  in  a  most  grotesque  manner. 
The  y®  and  y*  grew  out  of  a  peculiar  way  of  forming 
the  letters  in  the  and  that,  as  any  one  may  see  by  ex- 
amining old  records.  Some  letters  were  used  inter- 
changeably, as  i  and  j,  u  and  v.  In  short,  orthography 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  deemed  a  matter  of  much 
importance.  The  writers,  in  many  cases,  appear  to 
have  simply  endeavored  to  express  themselves  in  the 
shortest  intelligible  way,  regardless  of  uniformity  or 
appearance.  As  remarked  on  page  14,  the  name  of 
Lynn,  in  the  act  giving  that  name,  is  spelled  Lin  ;  the 
n  has  a  line  over  it,  denoting  that  it  should  be  doubled. 
Mr.  Turner,  it  may  be  remarked,  seems  to  have  been 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  55 

in  some  particulars  quite  fond  of  a  short  hand  way  of 
writing. 

And  here  it  may  be  proper  to  say  a  word  regarding 
dates.  Some  historians  have  not  been  sufficiently  careful 
in  stating  them,  where  they  were  material.  The  Julian 
mode  of  computation  having  been  in  use  in  the  old 
colony  times,  mistakes  are  liable  to  occur.  The  Gre- 
gorian or  present  style  was  not  adopted  either  in  Old 
or  New  England  till  1752.  The  old  style  made  the 
civil  and  legal  year  commence  with  Lady  Day  or  An- 
nunciation, the  25th  of  March.  The  new  style  changed 
it  to  the  1st  of  January.  The  correction  of  the  calen- 
dar Avas  made  in  1582,  by  Gregory  XIII.,  and  the  new 
style  was  forthwith  adopted  in  all  Catholic  countries. 
We  do  not  imagine  that  protestant  England  was  appre- 
hensive that  any  popish  poison  lurked  in  the  new 
style,  but  yet  she  was  singularly  tardy  in  adopting  it. 
However,  the  change  was  long  expected  here  and  in 
England,  and  hence  the  double  dating  so  frequently 
found  in  old  records  and  on  old  grave  stones :  thus, 
Feb.  12,  in,  or  1682-3;  the  month  being  in  1682  ac- 
cording to  the  old  style  and  in  1683  according  to  the 
new.  The  same  act  of  the  British  Parliament  (1751) 
which  provided  that  the  next  ensuing  first  day  of  Jan- 
uary should  be  the  first  day  of  the  new  year,  also  pro- 
vided that  the  second  day  of  September  should  be 
called  the  fourteenth ;  thus  dropping  eleven  days. 
Every  fourth  year  was  also  ordained  to  be  a  leap  year, 
with  certain  modifications  that  cannot  much  affect  the 
reckoning  of  people  for  a  thousand  years  to  come. 
The  causes  which  existed  for  the  change  of  style  are 
of  course  familiar  to  the  reader.  In  the  earliest  times 
of  New  England,  too,  the  months  were  frequently  indi- 
cated by  numbers  instead  of  names,  much  in  the  style 


56  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

of  the  Quakers  of  the  present  day,  as  3d  month  (May); 
12th  month  (February),  &c, 

Mr,  Turner  was  possessed  of  a  considerable  estate, 
and  carried  on  farming  to  some  extent.  He  married  a 
lady  from  Salem,  and  reared  a  family  of  children.  But 
it  is  likely  that  his  sons  had  a  propensity  to  rove,  or 
to  live  bachelor  lives,  for  it  does  not  appear  that  at 
any  time  his  was  a  prevailing  name  among  us.  He 
must  have  been  quite  popular  with  the  people,  for  he 
was  perpetually  in  the  discharge  of  some  responsible 
duty.  Though  a  man  of  piety,  we  should  not  con- 
ceive him  to  have  been  one  of  the  strict  rehgionists  of 
the  time.  In  short,  as  far  as  we  can  gather,  he  pos- 
sessed a  most  genial  mind,  and  was  inclined  to  the  in- 
dulgence of  pleasantry  and  all  innocent  amusements  ; 
in  these  and  some  other  respects  resembling  another 
great  philosopher,  born  just  one  century  after  his 
nativity. 

But  it  would  be  quite  impossible  to  enter  much  at 
large  into  a  history  of  the  life  of  Mr.  Turner,  even 
though  the  materials  were  all  at  hand.  And,  more- 
over, it  is  apprehended  that  a  few  pages  from  his  jour- 
nal would  be  more  acceptable  than  anything  else  that 
could  be  offered. 

Allusion  has  been  made  to  Mr.  Turner's  belief,  in 
common  with  the  world  in  general  at  that  time,  regard- 
ing the  occasional  corporeal  appearance  of  his  satanic 
majesty.  Now  some  may  smile  and  greatly  wonder  at 
this.  But  yet,  has  this  and  the  concomitant  belief  in 
ghosts  ever  been  shown  to  be  false  ?  The  question  has 
been  discussed  for  ages,  and  a  vast  majority  of  the 
christian  world,  to  say  nothing  of  'the  heathen,  are 
unquestionably,  at  this  moment,  to  be  ranked  as  believ- 
ers.    It  is  yet  an  unsettled  question ;  and  no  one  has 


OBADIAH   TUENER.  57 

a  right  to  treat  it  as  settled.  Neither  you  nor  I,  read- 
er, have  perhaps  had  proof  satisfactory  to  our  minds. 
But  it  does  not  follow  that  others  have  not.  And  it  is 
a  little  presuming  in  us  to  laugh  at  such  men  as  Sir 
Matthew  Hale,  Addison,  Blackstone  and  Dr.  Johnson, 
because  they  believed  that  such  appearances  might 
take  place  ;  or  at  the  many  great  lights  in  divinity  who 
declare  that  the  Bible  fully  sustains  the  affirmative. 
All  know  the  difficulty  of  proving  a  negative.  But  in 
this  case  innumerable  witnesses  appear  in  the  affirma- 
tive, whose  testimony  has  not  been  invalidated.  Some 
of  the  instances  are  certainly  strange  enough,  and  to  a 
reasonable  mind  seem  somewhat  shaky ;  as,  for  ex- 
ample, that  in  the  experience  of  Martin  Luther,  the 
redoubtable  reformer,  who,  while  denouncing  such 
vengeance  against  all  liars,  declared  that  the  Devil 
came  into  his  sleeping  room  at  night  and  wantonly 
disturbed  his  rest  by  cracking  hazel  nuts  upon  the  bed 
post,  Luther  conceived  himself  to  be  such  a  shining 
light  in  the  world  of  truth  and  piety  that  the  evil  one 
took  especial  pains  to  extinguish  him.  The  puritan 
fathers  thought  very  much  the  same  of  themselves. 
And  many  individuals  at  this  period  fancy  themselves 
of  much  more  importance  in  this  world  and  considera- 
tion in  the  other  than  they  really  are.  And  it  is  gen- 
erally about  as  easy  to  be  at  peace  with  an  east  wind 
as  with  such  people,  however  willing  one  may  be  to 
accede  to  all  moderate  assumptions. 

We  will  now,  for  the  benefit  and  gratification  of  the 
reader,  present  a  few  extracts  from  the  aforenamed 
journal  of  Mr.  Turner : 

1630.  lulie  y''  28  :  On  y«  last  4th  day  some  of  vs 
did  goe  afar  into  y*^  wildernesse  towards  y^  river  on  y® 
west,  and  thence  about  by  y^  hills  on  y'^  north.     And 


58  NOTABLE   PEOPLE.  * 

this  wee  did  y*  wee  might  discover  what  y®  land  and 
productions  of  this  our  heritage  be.  Wee  found  val- 
lies  of  mightie  trees  of  such  kinds  as  Old  England  is  a 
stranger  to.  And  wee  made  sore  our  feet  by  y®  clim- 
ing  of  hills  among  rocks  and  thornie  brambles  and 
vines.  Great  store  of  wild  berries  were  on  everie  hand. 
Among  them  were  manie  black  shining  berries  as  big 
as  y''  pills  of  apothecaries ;  and  these  berries  be  of 
sweete,  milde  taste  and  grow  in  clusters  on  low  bushes 
with  light  green  leaues  wthovt  thornes.  Wee  did 
pluck  some  and  found  them  savory  to  eat  in  fire  cakes; 
and  did  think  them  apt  for  puddings.  Then  there  were 
found  other  large  black  shining  berries  growing  on 
creeping  vines,  of  most  luscious  taste.  And  wee  did 
eat  till  our  mouths  were   black  as  y*'  chimney  back. 

As  wee  journied  wee  did  sometimes  see  skulking 
abovt  among  y*'  trees,  what  wee  conjectured  to  be  In- 
djans  or  Devils ;  jt  being  patent  y*  y**  great  foe  of  all 
God  his  people  hath  alreadie  begun  to  harrass  and 
plague  this  godlie  companie.  But  wee  doe  some  ex- 
pect to  have  over  from  Nehumkeage  a  big  ordnance 
whereby  to  defend  ourselves  from  y®  one,  and  some 
godlie  bookes  and  catechisms  to  fortifie  against  y® 
other.  And  God  being  on  our  side  wee  feare  not 
what  Indjans  or  Devils  can  doe. 

In  a  vallie  wee  found  a  small  store  of  corn  growing 
wch  we  did  conjecture  belonged  to  y"  sauvages.  And 
a  little  way  off  we  did  see  some  fruites  growing  where- 
of wee  knew  not  y^  name  or  vse  but  did  surmise  y* 
■  they  were  all  for  food.  But  wee  saw  none  watching 
thereabouts  and  no  habitations. 

Of  wilde  animals  wee  spied  but  few.  But  wee 
heard  terrible  roareings  as  if  there  were  bears  or 
unicomes  away  off  in  y®  wilderness ;  or  may  be  they 
were  wild  asses  or  roaring  Devils  seeking  to  devour 
God  his  people. 

Wee  did  see  some  reptiles  and  serpents.  And  two 
y*  we  saw  had  rattils  in  their  tailes,  wherewith  they 
made  a  strange  whirring  noise  mch  like  y®  noise  of  y® 
rattils  of  y^  night  watch  in  London  only  not  so  mightie 
a  rattil. 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  59 

Of  birdes  wee  saw  great  store.  Some  eagles  and 
hawkes  and  manie  of  wch  wee  knew  not  y®  names.  But 
wee  are  of  a  truth  in  a  paradise  of  those  moving  things 
y'  be  good  for  foode.  In  y*"  woodes,  in  y"  pondes  and 
on  y''  sea  shore,  wee  have  multitudes  of  fowle,  fish  and 
game,  most  savory  to  y^  appetite  and  healthy  for  y® 
stomach.  ¥«=  Israelites  fared  less  daintilie  than  wee  ; 
wherefor  praised  bee  God. 

It  was  somewhat  within  y^  night  when  we  came  in 
sight  of  home.  In  coming  over  y*^  hillock  nigh  y® 
doore  of  our  habitation  I  descried  a  daintie  white  rab- 
bit, as  jt  seemed,  wch  I  deemed  would  make  a  savory 
dish  for  breakfast  on  y®  morrow. '  Giving  chase,  I  was 
soone  almost  vpon  him,  when  lo,  he  whisked  vp  a 
bushy  tail  over  his  hinder  parts,  and  then  threw  jt  to- 
wards me  wth  a  mightie  rush ;  and  jt  shed  upon  me  a 
liquor  of  such  stinke  y*^  nothing  but  y*"  opening  of  y® 
bottomless  pit  can  equal.  My  eyes  were  blinded  and 
my  breath  seemed  stopped  foreuer.  When  I  recovered, 
y^  smell  remained  vpon  me,  insomuch  y*  they  would 
fain  drive  me  from  y^  house,  saying  y*  they  could  not 
abide  wthin  while  I  remained.  And  I  still  carry  jt 
about  wth  me,  in  a  yet  terrible  degree.  I  am  per- 
suaded y*  this  is  another  device  of  Satan ;  y*^  four 
footed  beast  being  an  impe  let  to  do  y^  Devil  his  bap- 
tism by  sprinkling. 

1631.  Ap^'l  y^  2:  Last  third  day  such  of  vs  as 
coulde,  turned  out  to  help  goodman  lohnstone  to  be- 
gin y®  building  of  his  new  house.  Wee  had  goodo 
hope  y*^  by  this  time  our  towne  might  become  some 
famous  and  be  faire  in  comlie  habitations.  But  wee 
have  been  much  put  to  jt  to  get  materialls  of  y®  right 
sorte  wherewith  to  build.  In  Salem  they  now  haue 
some  bigge  sawes,  wherewith  to  make  boardes.  But 
few  come  to  us,  as  the  way  hither  is  harde  to  travell 
by  reason  of  y®  stumpes  and  rockes  y*  be  in  it.  And 
likewise  y®  people  there  mch  want  their  own  hordes. 
So  wee  must  do  as  wee  best  can  wth  our  axes  and 
adzes  and  smaller  sawes,  and  what  few  hordes  wee 
can  from  time  to  time  make  out  to  haul  hither.     Wee 


60  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

haue  stones  in  plentie,  but  no  mortar  wherein  to  lay 
them.  And  wee  haue  aboundance  of  clay  y'  might  bee 
used  in  y*^  making  of  brickes,  but  none  of  us  haue  y® 
skill  to  rightlie  molde  and  sett  vp  y*^  killen;  and  if  wee 
had,  y®  mortar  would  bee  wanting. 

1632.  Ap'l  y*'  28:  Wee  had  great  discourse  in  gene- 
rall  meeting,  on  6th  day  about  y®  planting  of  trees. 
Some  few  payr  and  appill  trees  haue  already  been  sett 
oute.  It  is  undenyable  y*  y®  making  of  cyder  is  goode 
to  keepe  y®  people  from  getting  drounke  on  stronge 
liqvors  and  fire  waters.  Wee  can  now  procure,  at 
small  charge,  from  other  plantations  sch  trees  as  in  a 
few  yeares  will  supply  our  wantes.  And  it  seemeth 
high  time  y*  orchards  should  be  set  and  growing  vp 
even  as  our  children  be  growing  vp.  God  hath  done 
mch  in  bringing  us  to  this  goodlie  land,  and  we  should 
do  something  for  them  y'  will  come  after  us  here.  Itt 
being  y*'  dutie  of  each  generation  to  keep  y*'  tyde  of 
blessings  rolling  on  to  benefit  y®  next.  Wee  haue 
some  wilde  fruites  in  y®  woodes  it  is  true,  but  not 
manie  and  they  not  well  liking. 

lan'^y  y®  12  :  Y«  winter  still  continueth  mightie 
colde,  insomuch  y*  y^  sea  be  froze  far  into  y*^  offing. 
Wee  can  goe  to  Nahauntus  on  y®  ice.  Our  houses  be 
halfe  buried  in  snow.  And  we  have  to  strapp  boardes 
to  our  feete  whereby  wee  may  walke  on  y*^  snow,  wch 
wee  call  snow  shoes.  Y"  women  goe  oute  but  little, 
being  forced  to  follow  y®  Bible  commandment  to  bee 
stayers  at  home ;  save  y*  they  go  out  to  meeting. 
But  praised  be  God,  wee  haue  plentie  of  fire  woode 
all  arounde,  so  wee  can  keepe  warme  when  wthin 
doores.  But  y®  brute  beastes  sufier  as  well  as  wee 
from  y®  colde,  for  they  bee  mch  put  to  jt  to  get  foode. 
Y®  famishing  wolves  howle  piteouslie  about  our  habi- 
tations in  y^  nighte  ;  and  jt  would  fare  harde,  I  think, 
wth  one  who  should  fall  among  them. 

1633.  Nov'  y^  1 :  Y«  Getfl  Courte  did  last  month 
make  order  to  regulate  y^  wages  of  divers  kinds  of 


OBADIAH  TURNER.  61 

workemen  and  labourers.  For  master  joyners,  masons, 
sawers,  carpenters,  and  them  of  other  hke  trades,  and 
mowers,  it  is  ordained  y*  not  aboue  2  shillings  a  day, 
they  findeing  theire  owne  victualls,  shall  bee  paid; 
and  if  they  haiie  victualls  founde,  then  not  aboue  14 
pence  a  day.  And  y'^  penaltie  for  takeing  or  glueing 
above  y*,  is  five  shillings.  Workemen  y*  bee  not  mas- 
ters, to  have  such  pay  as  two  discreet  people  of  y® 
labourer  his  own  choosing,  together  wth  y^  constable, 
shall  say.  And  itt  is  further  ordered  y*  they  shall 
worke  y*^  whole  day,  saveing  onlie  such  time  as  may  be 
needfull  wherein  to  take  their  dyet  and  reste.  But, 
methinks,  all  such  things  should  be  left  for  men  to 
agree  vppon  betwixt  themselves.  Some  bee  worth 
much  more  than  others,  by  reason  of  their  judgment, 
prudence  and  Industrie. 

Y«  Courte  too  must  needes  keep  makeing  laAves  to 
regulate  y^  price  of  corne  and  other  produce  raised. 
Then  there  being  a  great  cropp  or  a  poore  cropp,  they 
must  presentlie  undo  what  they  haue  done.  Better 
lett  y^  people  bee  a  law  to  themselves  in  such  things. 
My  neighboure  Edward  Tomlins  hath  built  a  famous 
mill  vppon  y«  fresh  brooke  y*  runneth  from  y«  greate 
ponde,  nigh  where  y®  same  floweth  into  y®  river  Sau- 
gus.  He  hath  thereby  done  a  noble  thing  to  supplie 
our  needes,  there  being  but  one  other  mill  in  y^  whole 
collonie  and  y*  not  able  to  do  y®  halfe  y*  is  to  bee  done. 
But  M''  Tomlins  is  now  somewhat  exercised  by  y^  doe- 
ings  of  y®  Courte,  and  saith  y*  y*  olde  mortars  where- 
in wee  have  bin  forced  to  crack  our  corne  had  better 
not  bee  given  to  y*'  Indjans  nor  made  into  fire  woode 
as  yet,  for  y^  foolish  Courte  may  make  such  hard  lawes 
vppon  hjs  mill,  y*  hee  may  bee  forced  to  give  vpp  y® 
same. 

1634.  May  y^  5 :  This  day  have  I  helped  my  neigh- 
boure Masters  in  planting  flaxe.  Y®  garments  brought 
wth  vs  soone  beginning  to  weare  oute,  wee  caste  aboute 
to  finde  y'  wherewith  to  renew  our  clothing.  And  wee 
did  try  what  might  be  done  wth  flaxe,  wch  wee  are 
now  shure  groweth  well  here.     With  this  we  are  well 


G2  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

pleased  and  hope  soone  to  be  prouided  wth  plentie  of 
stronge  and  comelie  cloth ;  for  there  be  them  among 
vs  who  haue  skill  in  curing  y'^  materiall  and  preparing 
jt  for  y®  spinning  wheel  and  weaving  frame.  And  our 
women  can  do  y®  spinning  and  weaving.  And  wee 
doe  hope  soone  to  haue  plentie  of  sheepe  too,  for  wool 
as  well  as  for  meate. 

At  this  time  there  is  not  mch  braverie  in  dress 
among  vs,  save  that  y''  new  comers  from  y''  old  coun- 
trie  do  sometimes  proudlie  appear. 

Wee  be  yett  a  small  place,  and  this  is,  as  jt  were, 
y®  beginning  of  things ;  but  wee  haue  them  among  vs 
who  be  able  to  turne  hand  to  almost  everie  thing 
necessary  to  be  done  for  our  comforte,  and  to  make 
vs  lustie  growers ;  so  wee  do  hope  soone  to  haue  with- 
in ourselves  all  y*  can  be  found  in  any  of  these  our 
loyal  plantations.     And  praised  be  God. 

lulie  y"^  10 :  Tester  even  I  did  have  much  pleasant 
discourse  wth  William  Woode,  concearneing  this  our 
Thirde  Bay  Plantation,  while  sitting  on  y®  oak  logg  by 
my  back  do  ore ;  for  he  hath  given  oute  y*  he  shall 
presenth'e  depart  for  Old  England,  there  to  sojourn  a 
briefe  space.  He  hath  bin  here  from  y^  beginning  of 
y^  settlement,  and  hath  writ  enow  to  make  a  laire 
booke,  aboute  affaires  wthin  y^  pattent.  And  I  did 
mch  urge  him  to  printe  y®  booke  while  in  England. 
He  hath  trauelled  mch  amongst  y«  settlements  and  by 
chearfull  wordes  and  other  wise  helpes  stopped  manie 
y*  would  haue  gon  from  vs,  some  to  Virginia,  some  to 
Plymouth  and  some  elsewhere.  And  y^  book,  mch  of 
wch  he  hath  read  to  me,  speaking  to  our  praise  and  to 
y^  praise  of  y**  land,  I  doubt  not,  being  printed  at  home, 
will  doe  greatlie  for  vs,  as  there  be  manie  who  want 
but  to  be  shure  of  our  being  well  planted  firste  and 
they  will  send  over  mch  to  our  comforte  and  helpe. 
But  some  things  he  hath  putt  down  y*  methinks  will 
not  looke  well  in  printe  and  I  would  faine  haue  had 
him  drop  them  ;  as  hjs  discourse  about  lions  at  Cape 
Anne.  Quoth  I,  I  doe  not  beleave  y'  anie  such  beaste 
ever  waa  founde  there.     He,  being  a  little  heady,  did 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  63 

warmlie  replie,  y*  then  they  were  Devills,  for  nothing 
but  one  or  y^  other  could  make  such  terrible  roareings 
as  have  been  hearde  thereaboute.  And  soe,  said  he, 
I  will  have  jt  one  or  y'^  other.  Well,  Avell,  quoth  I, 
Master  Woode,  if  so  you  will,  jt  must  be,  tho  I  would 
faine  haue  all  discourse  about  revenous  beastes  and 
Devills  left  out.  If  jt  be  thot  at  home  y*  our  lande 
doth  abounde  in  such,  but  few  Avill  be  founde  readie  to 
come  hither.  Lions  they  cannot  be  for  y^  bookes  of 
trauell  have  jt  y*  such  beastes  live  onlie  in  burning 
desert  lands.  Devills  Jthey  may  be,  for  such  be  found 
everiewhere.  And  as  manie  would  rather  face  Devills 
than  lions,  jt  were  better  to  call  them  Devills  if  one 
or,  y^  other  it  must  be.  And  blessed  be  God  wee 
have  y''  holie  Bible  for  protection  against  them. 

1685.  Ap^'l  y^  20:  There  hath  bin  for  some  days 
an  uproare  about  y®  destruction  of  y®  salt  workes. 
Thomas  Dexter  and  some  others  deeming  y'  salt  might 
bee  made  to  advantage  here,  not  onlie  to  meet  our 
own  needs,  but  also  of  a  surplus  to  supply  others  at 
a  pro^-t  to  ourselves  and  cheape  to  them^  went  about^ 
setting  up  neare  y®  foote  of  y''  hill  y*  overlookes  y^ 
beach  a  kettle  or  two  and  y®  needed  pans.  Y®  work 
went  bravelie  on.  But  on  six  day  morning  jt  was 
found  y'  during  y®  night  some  Indjans,  as  they  say, 
came  down  and  pitched  y®  kettles  into  y®  sea  and  de- 
stroyed y^  pans.  But  I  am  persuaded  y*^  not  Indjans 
but  Devils  did  y**  dirty  worke,  and  y*  jt  is  onlie  an- 
other attempt  of  Satan  to  drive  God  his  people  hence. 
But  wee  will  not  goe,  salt  or  no  salt.  I  am  y®  more 
moved  vnto  thjs  behef,  because  Indjans  be  not  stronge 
of  limbe,  and  a  verie  Samson  might  haue  found  y^  mis- 
chief harde  worke.  Manie  fish  being  now  taken  salt  is 
mch  needed  in  y^  curing  thereof.  And  Avee  hope  to 
see  other  pans  and  kettles  set  vp.  In  Plymouth  colo- 
nie  we  bee  told  salt  is  mch  wanting.  And  y^  workes 
at  Cape  Anne  have  been  burnt  vp. 

Septm""  y°  10 :  Y®  traine  bande  exercised  to  day  on 
y®  common  fielde.     Wee  have  good  store  of  firelocks, 


64  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

and  ammunition  in  aboundance.  And  wee  deem  our- 
selves able  wtli  God  his  helpe  to  beate  back  a  potent 
adversarie.  Sometimes  y®  sauvages  do  threaten  to  fall 
vppon  vs  in  greate  numbers  and  destroy  vs.  But  wee 
haue  stout  heartes,  and  do  not  feare  but  wee  can  helpe 
ourselves.  Nevertheless  wee  must  be  vigillant  and 
reddy.  Wee  haue  a  blocke  house  beside  y^  great 
ponde  wch  wee  may  fortifye  and  make  a  saife  place 
for  y®  women  and  children  to  flee  to  when  y®  foe  Com- 
eth ;  and  thinke  wee  can  holde  out  against  y«  worst 
till  we  may  get  succor  from  abri)ad. 

M""  Batchellor,  y^  minister,  made  a  loude  prayer  at 
y®  training  and  exhorted  to  braverie  in  defence  of  y® 
faire  lande  wherewith  God  hath  made  vs  rich,  saying 
y*  such  be  our  christian  dutie ;  and  bringing  from  y^ 
holie  scripture  manie  shining  ensamples  for  our  edifi- 
cation and  encouragement.  Some  doe  stumble  at  y® 
teachings  of  Mister  Batchellor,  saying  he  be  an  angell 
in  hjs  publick  walke,  but  a  devil  in  hjs  own  household. 
But  who  is  there  y'  is  not  better  in  hjs  sayings  than  in 
hjs  works. 

Y^  musicke  of  y^  fife  and  drum  was  mightie  enspirit- 
ing.  And  y''  conke  shell  trumpet  was  meet  to  territy 
y®  sauvage  hearte. 

lohn  Markes  he  got  drunke  at  y®  training  and  was 
pvt  into  y®  stockes  by  y^  big  oake  tree  on  y'^  common 
fielde. 

1636.  Decm'^  y«  7 :  Y^  minister,  Stephen  Batchellor, 
left  vs  this  yeare  and  as  I  have  hearde  would  goe  to 
Ipswitch.  He  was  y^  firste  minister  here  and  did  come 
among  vs  some  above  two  yeare  after  wee  did  begin 
this  oure  plantation.  Before  his  coming  wee  must 
needes  doe  our  own  preaching,  exhorting  and  cate- 
chizing ;  save  that  sometimes  wee  could  procure  help 
from  abroade  ;  and  some  of  vs  used  to  go  hence,  when 
y^  weather  allowed,  to  heare  preaching  elsewhere. 
Mister  Batchellor  had  mch  zeal  in  preaching  and  ex- 
horting ;  and  some  stranger  Indjans  once  passing  by 
y^  meeting  place  were  mch  terrified  saying  y*  y^  Avhite 
man  bia  council  was  open  and  y*  they  hearde  y'^  war 


OBADIAH    TURNER.  Q^ 

yells.  He  was  three  score  and  ten  yeares  olde,  as  I 
learn,  when  first  he  came.  Hjs  hair  is  thin  and  gray, 
but  hjs  eyes  be  black  and  fiei-ie.  He  hath  an  unseemlie 
wen  on  y*^  side  of  hjs  nose  wch  presseth  y*  member  in 
an  unshapelie  way.  He  needeth  no  staff  to  stay  hjs 
steps  but  is  quick  a-foot  and  sure.  In  person  he  "is 
tall  and  leane,  and  when  he  speaketh  earnestlie  doth 
mch  exercise  hjs  bodie.  Some  scandal  hath  appeared 
against  him,  parthe  on  y^  score  of  chastitie  and  partlie 
on  y«  score  of  temper.  Pie  hath  a  strong  will  and 
liketh  mch  y*  people  doe  his  bidding ;  or,  as  we  say, 
he  is  heady.  Hjs  indignation  is  easilie  roused,  wch  I 
doe  not  thinke  seemlie  in  a  minister.  One  happening 
to  say  to  him  a  provoking  w^orde  at  y'^  general  meeting, 
got  a  blow  for  his  paines.  But  mch  must  be  forgiven 
where  mch  hath  been  suffered.  Y«  godlie  virtue  of 
patience  is  not  given  to  all  in  like  measure.  Some 
tempers  grow  harde  and  soure  under  y''  same  treatment 
where  others  keep  tender  and  sweete.  Few  among  vs 
haue  been  so  badlie  dealt  wth  in  y^  olde  countrie  as 
he.  He  began  a  minister  in  y«  establishment  and  when 
he  came  out  wth  y^  puritans  he  had  mch  evil  usage  to 
endure  from  y«  bishops.  He  was  mch  put  upon  both 
before  he  went  to  Holland  and  after  his  return  to  Lon- 
don. He  hath  mch  learning  in  y*^  Hebrew  and  Greek, 
is  an  easie  preacher  for  words  and  doth  easilie  work 
himself  into  a  holie  frenzie.  He  hath  baptised  y«  firste 
children  born  among  vs,  one  being  his  owne. 

1637.  Aug'  y«  1 :  Mch  hath  been  said  of  wonderful 
things  being  from  time  to  time  founde  in  divers  of 
these  parts.  My  neyboure  Hawkes  he  being  wth  oth- 
ers at  worke  in  y"  greate  easte  field,  did  digg  from  a 
hillock  toward  y'^  shore  two  skelettons  of  stoute  men 
swaddled  and  encoffined  in  a  manner  never  known  to 
y''  Indjans,  as  they  declare.  And  wth  y^  same  they  did 
finde  divers  implements  of  mettal,  as  a  speare  head  of 
brasse,  and  some  tubes  seeminglie  meant  for  y«  depos- 
iteof  medicine  yHhey  would  alwaies  haue  wth  them. 
It  is  judged  y*  these  be  y«  remains,  not  of  Indjans,  y« 
sauvages  all  declaring  jt  such  they  cannot  be  "but  of 

5 


66  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

some  antient  white  peeple  who  must  have  come  here 
for  discoverie  or  by  shipwrecke  manie  yeares  before 
y^  plantation  began.  And  y^  sauvages  doe  tell  of  theire 
old  peeple  hauing  hearde  from  their  fathers  y*  a  won- 
derful canoe  did  in  antient  times  appeare  in  y®  offing; 
and  being  driven  by  greate  stresse  of  weather,  was 
forced  wthin  y**  greate  Birds  Egg  Rocke,  there  goeing 
to  pieces.  Strange  peeple  wth  white  faces,  they  say 
were  in  y®  shipp,  and  some  reached  y^  shore  alive. 
Presentlie  they  built  a  habitation  on  y®  headlande, 
wherein  they  dwelt  all  y®  summer,  planting,  fishing  and 
hunting  for  their  sustenance.  But  none  ever  hearde 
of  what  became  of  y*^  strangers. 

Some  declare  y*  they  have  scene  at  Nahauntus  sun- 
dry wonderfull  tracks  in  y"'  solid  rocke,  as  of  some 
beaste  like  unto  a  great  oxe.  And  I  did  goe  thither 
wth  some  fishermen  to  looke  for  y^  same,  but  we  could 
finde  nothing.  Yet  manie  of  faire  credit  doe  stronglie 
affirme  3'*  they  have  seen  them. 

We  doe  have  to  be  sparing  of  credit  to  y®  Indjan 
tales.  Y®  sauvages  mch  like  to  amaze  us  and  excite 
our  feares.  But  manie  besides  Indjan'=?  doe  love  to 
tell  of  wonderfull  things  in  this  wonderfull  place.  And 
we  be  sometimes  puzzled  to  know  what  to  beleave. 

1638.  lune  y''  19 :  Some  going  down  to  Xahanntus 
on  thirde  day  laste,  did  see  two  ravenous  wolves ;  be- 
ing y®  same,  I  think,  y*  tore  in  pieces  goodman  Lake- 
man  hjs  cow.  But  they  could  not  shoot  them,  for 
they  were  too  quick  into  y^  woodes  there. 

Ypon  y^  beach  y*^  lieth  most  southward  they  picked 
vp  manie  great  clams,  from  wch  a  savorie  dish  was 
made.  They  also  cacht  great  store  of  fish,  wch,  build- 
ing a  fire  by  y*^  rockes  they  cookt,  and  thereof  with 
artichokes,  and  some  bread,  they  made  a  right  heartie 
meale. 

loel  Tomlins,  he  getting  a  little  drounke,  must  needs 
show  off  his  agility  by  dancing  and  balancing  himself 
in  dangerous  places.  And  soe  jt  fell  out  y*  he  fell 
over  y®  rockes  into  y"  water,  and  they  thot  jt  was  all 
over  with  him.     But  one   poising  himself,  was  able  to 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  67 

catch  him  by  y®  hair  of  his  heade  as  he  floated  atop  of 
y^  wave,  and  so  pulled  him  out  againe.  I  doe  thinke 
y*  peeple  who  get  drounke,  and  there  bee  too  manie 
sch  hereabouts,  should  not  goe  a  fishing  on  y*^  rockes 
of  Nahauntus. 

Upon  y*^  beach  they  spied  great  multitudes  of  birdes 
of  manie  kindes,  they  being  there  to  pick  vp  y^  wormes 
and  little  fishes.  They  haue  long  bills  wch  they  thrust 
into  y®  little  holes  in  y*^  sand  and  pull  up  y*^  fat  wormes 
wth  great  relish.  They  lay  eggs  in  y®  sand  and  y^ 
heate  of  y''  sun  being  vpon  them  they  speedilie  hatch, 
and  y''  little  birdes  betake  themselves  to  feeding.  Y® 
beach  birds  be  verrie  shy  and  quick  a-wing,  but  our 
sportsmen,  nevertheless,  do  bring  down  great  plentie 
for  our  own  vse,  and  if  need  be  to  supply  other 
plantations. 

Itt  hath  bin  writ  in  a  booke  y*  oysters  be  unwhole- 
some to  eate  in  everie  moneth  y'  hath  not  an  r  in  jt. 
And  soe  some  of  our  people  will  have  jt  y'  all^shell 
fish,  as  lobsters,  crabbs,  clamms  and  y^  like  be  not  fit 
for  foode  betwixt  Ap^l  and  Septra''.  I  know  not  that 
they  bee  poison  att  such  times,  but  they  bee  not  soe 
fat  and  luscious. 

1639.  Marche  y^  28 :  There  appeared  in  y«  heavens 
a  raightie  sign  wch  may  be  y®  forerunner  of  some  dire- 
full  calamitie,  as  sickness,  earthquake  or  other  evill 
commotion.  It  seemed  like  unto  a  broade  sheet  of 
white  light,  in  shape  mch  like  y®  tail  of  a  fish,  hanging 
in  y®  weste  for  some  hours  wthin  y*^  night,  from  sun- 
setting.  It  did  then  fade  away  by  little  and  little  and 
disappeare.  Some  felt  greate  feare  and  ran  to  y"  min- 
ister. But  he  did  quietly  tell  them  to  feare  not,  for 
God  is  wth  vs.  And  he  bid  them  remember  y*  y®  Isra- 
elites did  see  cause  to  reioice  in  y*^  pillar  of  fire.  And 
are  not  wee  better  than  Israeljtes?  He  did  goe  out 
and  studie  y'^  wonder,  till  he  almost  froze  in  y®  colde 
blast  from  y®  northweste,  and  would  have  it  y'  it  was 
noe  signe  of  anie  thing  wonderfull  to  come,  and  no 
more  awfull  than  y®  winde,  or  y*^  sunshine,  onlie  not  so 
common. 


68  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

1640.  lulie  y®  19 :  An  Indjan  boy  did  cunninglie 
creepe  into  my  backe  roome  on  yesternight  and  there- 
from steale  my  axe.  Y®  sauvages  be  mch  given  to 
thieving.  Wee  do  haue  to  watch  constantly  when 
they  be  aboute,  and  complain  to  y®  chiefs,  wch  doth 
little  goodo.  And  they  sometimes  boaste  of  what 
wonders  they  will  do  bie  and  bie  when  other  nations 
come  to  helpe  them.  Hereaboutes  there  be  but  few 
sauvages,  and  they  desperate  poore,  soe  poore  in  sooth 
that  they  cannot  aflforde  themselves  naimes.  And  soe 
wee  giue  names  vnto  them,  whereof  they  seeme  mightie 
proude.  One  wee  call  Kettle  lohn,  another  Lobster 
Bill,  another  Soreface  loe  and  soe  on,  they  being  fonde 
of  having  a  meaning  in  theire  names.  They  doe  boaste 
of  having  been  a  greate  nation  in  yeares  gone  by,  but 
say  that  a  dreadf'uU  sicknesse  carried  manie  off  and  soe 
mch  weakened  them  as  a  nation.  Y'^  landes  they  holde 
in  common  and  doe  not  worke  to  any  advantage,  haue- 
ing  no  tooles  to  boaste  of  And  as  they  hunt  and  fish 
mostly  for  theirs  foode  they  do  not  deeme  theire  lands 
of  mch  value,  and  seem  glad  to  sell  at  a  small  price. 
A  jewsharpe  will  do  wonders  wth  them  in  a  bargaine 
for  lande.  All  y^  old  Sagamore  his  hill  that  overlookes 
y®  beache  and  contains  manie  acres,  was  bought  for  a 
hatchett,  a  red  jackett  and  two  jewsharpes.  And  most 
of  y"  Indjan  titles  have  been  bought  in,  some  for  an 
iron  kittle,  some  for  a  few  iron  nailes,  and  some  for 
cast  off  clothes  ;  in  every  bargaine,  a  jewsharpe  or  two 
being  added,  they  being  fonde  of  y®  musicke  therof 
They  have  no  great  appetite  in  eating  and  live  at  a 
cheape  rate.  If  they  can  get  nothing  else,  a  few  clams 
pickt  vp  on  y"  sea  shore,  or  a  few  eares  of  corn  roasted 
in  y"  ashes  contents  a  whole  familie  for  a  meal. 

1641.  Septem'^  y«  5  :  Some  being  on  y^  greate  beache 
gathering  of  clams  and  seaweede  wch  had  been  cast 
thereon  by  y^  mightie  storm  did  spy  a  most  wonderful 
serpent  a  shorte  way  off  from  y®  shore.  He  was  as 
big  rounde  in  y**  thickest  parte  as  a  wine  pipe  ;  and 
they  do  affirme  that  he  was  fifteen  fathom  or  more  in 
length.     A  most  wonderful  tale.     But  y**  witnesses  be 


OBADIAH   TURNERr  69 

credible,  and  jt  would  be  of  no  account  to  them  to  tell 
an  untrue  tale.  Wee  have  likewise  hearde  y*  at  Cape 
Ann  y"  people- have  seene  a  monster  like  vnto  this, 
wch  did  there  come  out  of  y®  sea  and  coile  himself 
vpon  y®  land  mch  to  y®  terror  of  them  y*  did  see  him. 
And  y^  Indjans  doe  say  y*  they  have  manie  times  seene 
a  wonderful  big  serpent  lying  on  y®  water,  and  reach- 
ing from  Nahauntus  to  y®  greate  rocke  wch  we  call 
Birdes  Egg  Rocke ;  wch  is  much  above  belief  for  y* 
would  be  nigh  vpon  a  mile.  Y**  Indjans,  as  said,  be  given 
to  declaring  wonderful  things,  and  jt  pleaseth  them  to 
make  y*'  white  peeple  stare.  But  making  all  discounte, 
I  doe  believe  y*  a  wonderful  monster  in  forme  of  a 
serpent  doth  visit  these  waters.  And  my  praier  to 
God  is,  y*  jt  be  not  y'  olde  serpent  spoken  of  in  holie 
scripture  y*  tempted  our  greate  mother  Eve  and  whose 
poison  hath  run  downe  even  vnto  vs,  so  greatlie  to  our 
discomforte  and  ruin. 

Dec""  y®  1 :  Wee  do  bless  God  y*  soe  much  good 
health  hath  bin  our  lot ;  for  our  feares  were  greate  y* 
coming  from  a  land  soe  different  in  heate  and  colde, 
and  being  putt  vpon  new  foode,  sore  plagues  and 
paines  might  fall  to  our  lott.  True,  wee  have  bin  some 
exercised  by  sickness,  and  sometimes  direfull  pesti- 
lence hath  ravaged  vs.  But  for  y®  most  parte  it  hath 
bin  contrariwise.  This  is  a  goodlie  lande  for  herbes 
and  rootes  wherewith  to  make  medicines.  And  y® 
Indjans  have  mch  skill  in  preparing  y'^  same.  There 
be  manie  doctors  among  them  who  gather  greate  bun- 
dles of  y®  herbes  and  rootes  and  store  them  vpp  in 
their  wigwams  for  winter  use.  And  they  mch  love  to 
show  their  skill  vppon  y®  white  people,  being  kind,  and 
readie  to  goe  miles  for  y"^  meanes,  if  they  have  them 
not  at  hand,  wherewth  to  abate  our  pains.  An  olde 
Sagamoure  did  declare  to  me  y*  he  never  knew  of  a 
sore  or  paine  or  sicknesse  for  which  he  could  not  find 
a  cure  somewhere  in  y°  swamps,  woodes,  or  pondes, 
vnless  y®  same  was  y®  worke  of  some  witchcraft ;  in 
wch  case  charmes  must  bee  turned  to.  And  charmes 
he  had  as  well  as  herbes. 


'50  ■  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

1643.  Ocf  y''  1 :  This  morning  y"  watch  did  begin 
.y*  blowing  of  their  homes,  wxh  is  to  be  in  this  wise : 
,One  to  starte  from  y^  hill  near  y^  roade  to  Nahauntus 
and  walk  westerlie ;  y®  other  to  starte  from  y*^  forke  of 
y*'  roades  at  y*^  west  end  of  y*^  common  landes  and  walk 
easterlie.  Y"^  two  to  meet  aty*^  halfe  way  poste,  both 
stoutlie  blowing  their  horns  all  y"  way.  They  to  starte 
one  hour  before  y*^  rising  of  y"  sun,  and  to  walke  some 
hastilie,  and  returne  back  without  stopping.  And  what- 
soever houses  they  find  without  a  light  or  some  token 
of  stirring  therein  they  are  to  reporte.  And  at  nine 
of  y''  clocke  at  night  they  are  to  doe  likewise  onlie  re- 
porting all  such  houses  as  have  lights  or  other  tokens 
ofy**  people  not  being  a-bed.  And  this  is  y"  regula- 
tions to  make  y**  people  industrious  and  keepers  of 
good  hours. 

1644.  May  y**  2 :  loel  Breede  is  chose  hunter  for  y^ 
year.  Hee  is  to  destroy  all  four  footed  plagues,  like- 
wise crows  and  venomous  serpents  y*  he  can,  giving 
to  y"'  dutie  one  half  of  everie  day.  And  he  is  to  haue 
his  boarde  for  his  paines,  and  to  take  it  round  among 
y®  families. 

1645.  Ap'l  y*'  7  :  lohn  Newhall  was  set  in  y®  stockes 
by  y*'  meeting  house,  for  stealing  of  pumpkins  from  y^ 
"vyiddow  Humfrey.  Some  boyes  did  pelt  him  wth  rot- 
ton  egges.  And  an  Indjan  did  throw  vpon  him  some 
blacke  stuff  of  mightie  stinke. 

1646.  lune  y*'  3 :  Allen  Bridges  hath  bin  chose  to 
wake  y"  sleepers  in  meeting.  And  being  mch  proude 
of  his  place,  must  needs  have  a  fox  taile  fixed  to  y''  end 
of  a  long  staff  wherewith  he  may  brush  y®  faces  of 
them  y'  will  have  napps  in  time  of  discourse  ;  likewise 
a  sharpe  thorne  wherewith  he  may  prick  such  as  be 
most  sounde.  On  y'^  laste  Lord  his  day,  as  hee  strutted 
about  y*'  meeting  house,  hee  did  spy  M""  Tomlins  sleep- 
ing with  much  comforte,  hjs  head  kept  steadie  by  being 
in  y*'  corner,  and  hjs  hand  grasping  y''  rail.  And  soe 
spying,  Allen  did  quickhe  thrust  his  stafi"  behind  Dame 


OBAWAH    TURNER.  71 

Ballard  and  give  hjm  a  giievous  prick  vpon  j^  hand. 
Wherevppon  M""  Tomlins  did  spring  vpp  mch  above  y® 
floore  and  with  terrible  force  strike  wth  hjs  hand 
against  y^  wall,  and  also,  to  y*^  great  wonder  of  all,  pro- 
phainlie  exclaim,  in  a  loude  voice,  cuss  y'^  woodchuck ; 
he  dreaming,  as  it  seemed,  y'  a  woodchuck  had  seized 
and  bit  his  hand.  But  on  comeing  to  know  wl^ere  hee 
was  and  y"  great  scandall  hee  had  comitted,  he  seemed 
mch  abashed,  but  did  not  speake.  And  I  think  hee 
will  not  soone  againe  go  to  sleepe  in  meeting.  Y® 
women  may  sometimes  sleepe  and  none  know  it,  by 
reason  of  their  enormous  bonnets.  IF  Whiting  doth 
pleasantlie  say  y'  from  y''  pulpitt  hee  doth  seem  to  be 
preaching  to  stacks  of  straw  wth  men  sitting  here  and 
there  among  them. 

1647.  Aug*^  y^  8 :  There  hath  suddenlie  come  among 
vs  a  companie  of  strange  people,  wch  bee  neither  In- 
djan  nor  Christian.  And  wee  know  not  what  to  liken 
them  vnto.  Some  will  have  it  y*  they  bee  Egyptjans 
or  Jypsjes,  wandering  thieves,  jugglers  and  beggars, 
so  long  a  pest  in  y*'  old  countries,  and  in  England  till 
Edward  y*^  Foui'th  made  hard  lawes  against  them. 
But  if  they  bee  of  that  heathen  people  how  came  the}^ 
hither  and  what  doe  they  seeke  in  this  wilderness 
where  is  little  to  steal  and  mch  justice  to  give  them 
stripes.  If  they  bee  Egyptjans  jt  is  patent  y*  y®  devill 
hath  sent  them  hither  to  do  his  bidding  and  harrass  God 
his  people.  Where  y*^  most  godliness  is  to  bee  founde 
there  y*^  devil  maketh  his  strongest  efibrt.  But  how 
such  people  could  get  here  none  can  tell.  Being  wth 
their  olde  captaine  I  did  ask  him  by  signs,  for  they 
speake  in  vnknown  tongues,  whither  they  came. 
Wherevppon  he  did  point  southward,  not  meaning  to- 
wards Plymouth,  but  far  beyond.  And  he  would  haue 
me  understand  y'  they  did  not  come  over  sea.  Never 
hearing  y*^  any  such  people  were  in  y*"  Dutch  settle- 
ments or  Virginia,  I  surmised  y*  hee  did  mean  y*  they 
came  from  y**  Spanish  settlements,  thousands  of  leagues 
awaie. 

This  strange  companie  hath  made  their  camp  in  a 


72  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

valley  a  little  within  y^  woodes.  And  there  they  live 
in  no  better  plight  than  y'=  Indjans ;  eating  all  manner 
of  unclean  meats,  as  frogs  and  rats,  and  deeming  dain- 
tie  foode  such  cattle  and  pigges  as  have  died  of  mur- 
rain, if  they  can  begg  them  of  us.  They  come  often 
into  y*^  settlement,  and  sometimes  travel,  mostlie  by 
night,  to  other  townes.  They  doe  use  palmistry  and 
other  devilish  arts  and  witchcrafts.  And  we  are  much 
exercised  to  watch  against  their  pilferings.  Neither 
doe  wee  let  our  children  goe  mch  in  their  waie,  for  jt 
hath  been  sayd  y'  these  people  sometimes  steal  little 
folk  and  rear  them  in  all  their  heathen  waies.  And  I 
doe  surmise  y*  a  maid  wth  them  may  be  of  this  sort. 
Her  years  may  be  eighteen  or  thereaboute,  and  she 
hath  such  a  faire  complexion  with  blooming  cheeks  as 
are  not  like  unto  y^  other  maids  with  them.  She  doth 
not  besmear  her  hair  like  y*^  others,  but  jt  falleth  vpon 
her  shoulders,  clean  and  glossie.  Her  eyes  may  be 
likened  unto  pretious  diamonds  being  so  lustrous. 
And  her  teeth  being  without  staining  from  druggs  are 
wliite  as  snow.  She  hath  a  merrie  looke  and  gay  laugh 
and  is  withal  neate  in  her  clothes  and  always  cleane  in 
face  and  hands.  She  sometimes  cometh  into  y^  town 
wtli  y^  olde  captaine,  having  her  head  decked  Avth  flow- 
ers and  is  bewitching  to  y*^  younge  men,  stepping  soe 
daintilie  and  looking  soe  comelie.  But  shee  hath  their 
evil  waies,  and  will  make  delicate  signs  to  some  youth 
y*  she  would  bestow  favors  vppon  them.  But  praised 
bee  God  all  here  bee  so  brot  vpp  in  his  holie  ordinan- 
ces y*  y*^  bodie  being  under  subjection,  temptation 
doth  not  overcome. 

They  doe  sometimes  make  merrie  at  their  lodges,  wth 
great  outcries  and  laughter.  And  vppnn  y**  holie  Sab- 
bath they  doe  dance  and  riot.  And  they  would  fain 
entice  our  young  men  and  maids  to  come  and  haue 
their  fortunes  told,  bringing  pay  therefor  in  fish,  In- 
djan  loafs,  artichokes  and  other  meats,  and  in  strong 
drinks  of  which  they  bee  mighty  fond,  and  will  spend 
daies  in  drounkenness  when  y*"  meanes  bee  at  hand. 

Their  men  do  sometimes  goe  from  door  to  door 
about  y®  towne  with  tools  wherewth  to  mend  pans  and 


OBADIAH   TUENEE.  73 

kettles  and  doe  y®  worke  of  cobblers.  But  thanks  bee 
to  y®  Lord,  we  have  good  shoemakers  here  enow  for 
all  our  needes,  and  would  helpe  our  owne.  The  wo- 
men make  divers  ointments  and  medicines  for  burns, 
cuts  and  other  hurts,  and  gather  herbs  which  they 
bring  to  our  doors  for  sale. 

Wee  httle  like  to  haue  these  pestigeous  people 
among  vs,  and  will  presently  drive  them  hence  if  they 
do  not  goe  of  themselves,  for  they  bee  all  theiving, 
unchaste  and  disordalie  uagabonds,  wandering  vpp  and 
down  and  prowling  about  by  night  and  daie.  When 
nothing  of  greater  value  comes  in  their  waie,  little  bits 
of  iron,  fish  hooks  and  even  broken  pottery  do  not 
come  amiss.  And  the  Indjans  much  complain  of  the 
stealing  of  their  jewsharpes. 

Hearing  a  great  outcrie  among  my  poultry  y ester 
even,  &  hastening  oute  by  y*"  backe  doore,  I  descried  one 
leaping  over  y*^  stone  wall,  to  gain  y^  bushes.  Y®  wall 
falling,  he  fell  likewise,  but  not  being  hurte,  he  was 
presently  againe  on  his  feet;  and  I  then  comeing  vpp 
to  y^  wall  seized  him  by  y®  skirte  of  his  outer  garment ; 
but  he  being  on  y*^  other  side,  and  seeing  hjs  advan- 
tage gave  me  a  lustie  pluck,  bringing  me  sprawling 
across  y**  wall.  Some  stones  being  thereby  knocked 
down,  and  falling  against  me  did  disable  me  from  fur- 
ther pursuit.  Going  back  to  y''  poultry  house,  I  was 
much  distresst  to  finde  my  proudest  Chester  cock  wth 
his  head  twisted  from  his  bodie,  and  sundry  pullets  in 
y®  same  plight. 

Coming  down  y®  roade  by  y"  rivver  Saugust  on  y® 
last  second  daie,  I  did  descry  them  all,  men,  women 
and  children,  in  stark  naked  plight  bathing  together  in 
ye  rivver,  shouting,  throwing  water  vppon  one  another, 
and  challenging  to  swimming  races,  and  doing  many 
like  indecent  feats.  But  I  presentlie  turned  my  eyes 
from  beholding  soe  great  a  scandall,  tho  I  could  not 
stop  my  ears  to  their  wild  outcries  and  prophanitie  as 
it  seemed.  Such  things  were  never  before  heard  of  in 
these  parts,  no,  not  even  among  y^  Indjans.  But  I 
haue  heard  tell  of  there  being  like  shamefull  doings 
among  y^  Spanish  in  Mexico  and  other  places  to  y® 
D 


74  .  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

southward,  whence,  some  will  have  jt  y*  these  came. 
But  we  must  presentlie  put  a  stopp  to  these  things  or 
y®  plagues  will  be  vppon  vs. 

Their  Captain,  as  wee  call  him,  is  of  manie  yearo. 
•He  is  of  noble  presence,  wth  thin  white  hair  and  bearil, 
and  a  scar  vppon  his  foi'ehead.  He  hath  a  voice  loude 
and  commanding;  but  his  manners  bee  not  discourte- 
ous. He  seemeth  to  feel  y''  care  of  a  father  for  hjs 
charge  ;  doth  comfort  them  in  sickness,  plead  for  them 
in  difficulties  and  fight  for  them  in  danger.  And  well 
may  they  love  him  and  obey  hjs  commands.  They  do 
all  seem  to  wish  no  better  life  than  their  wandering  one. 
And  I  am  fain  to  believe  y*^  ignorance  is  y*'  mother  of 
mch  of  their  evil  doings.  M"^  Whiting  hath  wrestled  in 
praier  for  them  and  Avould  give  them  mch  good  dis- 
course but  for  y®  difficulties  of  y®  language.  And  he 
saith  trulie  y*  y^  soule  of  one  of  these  outcaste  children 
is  as  pretious  wth  God  as  y®  Christian  his  soule,  for  He 
is  no  respecter  of  persons.  And  doe  wee  not  all  know 
y*  Christ  his  blood  can  wash  y*^  one  soule  white  and 
clean  as  y''  other.  And  praised  be  God  his  great  name 
for  this.  But  yet,  take  these  vagrant  people  as  they 
bee,  in  temporal  wise,  they  be  such  companie  as  wee 
doe  not  crave  to  have  among  vs  and  will  presentlie  rid 
ourselves  of  them  by  y®  best  means  in  our  power.  So 
all  declared,  in  general  meeting. 

September  j^  3  :  Praised  be  God  y^  vagrant  Bgyp- 
tjans  or  whatever  they  be,  haue  departed  from  among 
vs.  In  y^  last  seventh  day  night  they  marched  awaie,. 
taking  y*  holie  time,  methinks,  for  feare  of  pursuit  and 
punishment  for  their  evil  deeds  while  sojourning  here. 
But  wee  were  mch  too  glad  to  be  rid  of  them  to  par- 
ley or  seek  our  own.  Manie  have  lost  by  their  thiev- 
ing waies ;  one  a  hoe,  another  a  hatchet  another  a  cod 
line  ;  and  few  of  vs  doe  not  miss  some  moveable  thing. 
Farmer  Newhall  his  plow  hath  disappeared,  tho  what 
on  earth  such  people  could  want  of  a  plow  wee  doe  not 
know.  He  would  have  followed  and  sought  y''  imple- 
ment, but  wee  did  persuade  him  from  jt  lest  they  should 
return,  and  helped  to  make  vpp  for  his  loss,  which  is 


OBADIAH  TURNER.  75 

indeed  a  sore  one,  for  there  bee  not  manie  plows  among 
vs,  and  he  was  alwaies  ready  to  loan  to  a  neighbor. 

1650.  lulie  y^  14 :  Some  youngsters  being  in  y** 
woodes  on  y''  last  Lord  his  day  did  wickedlie  play  at 
cardes  on  a  flat  rock.  And  while  y®  game  was  going 
on,  they  say  there  did  appeare  vpon  y^  solid  rock,  in 
y"  middest  of  them,  a  foote  printe,  plaine  as  a  foote 
printe  could  be  made  vpon  y*^  sand  of  y*^  beache ; 
whereupon  they  were  greatlie  terrified,  as  well  they 
might  be.  Y*^  goode  people  say  y*  jt  be  y*^  devill  his 
foote  printe.  But  it  seemeth  strange  y*  y''  devill  should 
desire  to  drive  them  off  from  doing  hjs  own  worke  or 
to  disturbe  y®  breakers  of  y''  Lord  his  dale,  or  other 
euil  doers.  But"  by  whomsoever  y''  miracle  was 
wrought,  methinks  it  was  meant  as  a  solemn  warning 
to  Sabbath  breakers  and  card  players.  And  my  praier 
to  God  is  y'  jt  may  be  rightlie  heeded. 

1651.  Aug*  y*"  4  :  Yester  even  wee  did  return,  mch 
tired,  from  y*'  West  Precinct.  At  y^  Iron  Workes  wee 
founde  all  y"  men  wth  smutty  faces  and  bare  armes 
working  lustilie. 

Y^  setting  vp  of  y"  forge  here,  wch  was  done  some 
six  years  agoe,  is  a  mightie  helpe  to  vs  y*  want  iron 
worke  some  times.  They  do  make  here  all  kindes  of 
affaires  wanted  by  our  farmers,  such  as  chaines,  plow 
irons,  sythes,  boltes  and  y®  like.  And  their  axes  and 
trammels  be  strong  and  well  shaped.  There  be  no 
other  iron  workes  hereabouts,  and  soe  mch  work  com- 
eth  in  from  abroad.  Some  of  y**  workmen  be  exceed- 
ing skilfull  and  y"  fame  of  y®  workes  be  verrie  great. 
Y**  Courte,  I  am  told,  think  so  well  of  hauing  y*^  workes 
here  among  vs,  y*  they  be  readie  to  doe  all  things  law- 
full  for  them  to  doe  to  encourage  y''  undertaking. 
Tho  y*^  oare  found  hereabouts  be  not  of  y^  first  qualitie, 
they  yet  finde  it  sufficient  to  pay  for  y*^  digging  and 
smelting. 

Y'^  workes  be  mostlie  owned  by  certain  rich  men  in 
Old  England,  and  monie  is  not  wanting  for  y®  supply 
of  all  things  necessarie.     And  jt  be  a  great  comfort 


7G  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

to  US  in  this  new  countrie,  where  mch  labour  and 
money  is  needed,  to  know  y'  soe  manie  men  at  home, 
yea  and  women  too,  of  substance  and  high  favour,  do 
take  a  livelie  interest  in  our  goode,  and  be  so  reddie 
to  lend  a  helping  hand.  But  some  of  y®  richest  and 
wisest  men  here  haue  something  to  doe  with  these 
workes,  wch  showeth  y*  they  think  them  of  worth. 
God  prosper  them. 

Y"  workemen  be  mostlie  from  Old  England,  and  mch 
skilled  in  y®  work.  Y"  headmen  be  of  substance  and 
godlie  lives.  But  some  of  y®  workemen  be  young,  and 
fond  of  frolicking,  and  sometimes  doe  frolicke  to  such 
purpose  y'  they  get  before  y®  magistrates.  And  jt  be 
said,  mch  to  their  discredit  y*  one  or  two  hath  done 
naughtie  workes  with  y**  maidens  living  thereabouts. 

There  hath  been  talk  of  some  iron  workes  in  y*"  Ply- 
mouth colonic.  But  if  any  be  there  y*^  fame  thereof  is 
not  soe  great  as  these.  And  ye  people  of  that  colonie 
do  sometimes  send  hither  for  articles  made. 

Y*^  Iron  Workes  be  in  a  delightfull  place,  beside  y® 
river  Saugust.  Manie  tall  pines  grow  neare  by  ;  also 
oakes  and  walnuts.  And  it  is  pleasante  to  see  y® 
smoke  of  y®  workes  curling  up  among  y®  trees. 

Y"  Indjans  sometimes  come  about  y®  workes,  and 
will  haue  sharpe  arrow  heads  made.  But  y®  workmen 
haue  been  warned  againste  supplying  them,  for  such 
weapons  may  if  neede  come  be  turned  against  them- 
selves. One  should  not  make  a  gun  wherewith  him- 
selfe  is  like  to  be  shot. 

Y"  overseer  of  y®  workes  did  show  vs  greate  cour- 
tesie.  He  would  haue  vs  view  y®  premises,  and  heare 
y®  storie  of  their  greate  doings.  And  he  entertayned 
us  wth  a  noble  dinner ;  giving  vs  fresh  meat  in  plentie 
and  fish.  And  to  crown  all  wee  had  a  most  daintie 
pudding,  wherein  were  cherries  of  most  delightfull 
taste.  And  wee  had  fruite  and  savorie  dishes  of  ber- 
ries, some  black  and  some  red,  wth  plentie  of  sweeten- 
ing spread  vpon  them.  A  good  tankard  of  well  kept 
cyder  furnished  drink  for  vs.  He  hath  a  wife  of  great 
comelinesse  and  pleasantrie,  haueing  no  soure  lookes 
nor  angry  wordcs.     She  hath  two  children  verie  faire 


OBADIAH  TURNEE.  77 

and  smarte.  And  being  of  goode  learning  she  delight- 
etb  to  instruct  and  catechize  y**  little  folk  of  y" 
precinct. 

Y'^  minister,  M''  Whiting,  doth  sometimes  come  hither 
to  preach  in  y"'  big  barne,  and  soe  y*^  infirme  and  lazie 
y*  cannot  or  will  not  go  elsewhere  haue  preaching  at 
hand. 

Y®  enterprise  of  y''  Iron  Workes  we  haue  much  at 
hearte.  It  hath  our  labors  and  our  praiers  and  must 
needs  prosper  if  God  be  wth  vs  in  jt ;  and  methinks 
he  is,  for  wee  are  hjs  peeple  and  he  seeth  our  need. 

Aug'  y^  25 :  Gooddie  Baker  was  ducked  in  y« 
great  ponde  by  y*'  east  roade  for  being  a  common 
scolde  and  y''  using  of  unchaste  and  prophane  wordes. 
She  was  deckt  in  a  petticoate  of  yellow  cloth  wth  a 
high  red  cap  on  her  head,  and  a  crow  feather  stuck 
a-top  thereof.  And  being  strapped  to  y*'  stoole  wth 
leathern  strappes,  she  was  let  down  under  y^  water 
three  times.  She  did  sneeze  and  shake  her  head  each 
time  as  she  came  vp,  much  as  a  dog  doth  when  he  hath 
been  plunged  into  y^  sea.  Twas  not  till  she  had  been 
brot  vp  y*^  laste  time  y*  she  sued  for  mercie  or  would 
sale  one  word  as  if  sorrie.  There  was  a  multitude 
present.  Some  hissed  and  some  taunted  her  about  her 
evil  sayings,  but,  as  jt  appeared,  not  greatlie  to  her 
discomforte,  Y®  duckinge,  methinks,  will  do  her  good 
for  she  is  thereby  punished  for  her  evil  speech  and 
washed  withall,  wch  she  seemed  mch  to  neede. 

1652.  Decern'"  y®  12:  In  selling  some  corne  this  daye 
there  was  payed  unto  me  a  shillinge  of  y®  new  stampe 
wch  y®  minte  at  Boston  hath  sent  out.  Y*^  Courte  hath 
ordered  y®  making  of  these,  likewise  sixpences.  But  I 
question  if  y^  collonie  hath  a  right  to  do  sch  a  great 
thing,  tho  I  be  not  one  y*  will  refuse  y®  taking  of  them 
on  account  of  y®  unlawfull  making  of  y^  same.  Our 
needes  in  y^  matter  of  small  silver  pieces  hath  been 
verrie  greate.  We  have,  jt  is  true,  a  little  Spanish 
money  but  not  enow  to  supplie  our  needes ;  and  most 
of  our  trade  hath  been  by  barter.     Y®  superintendent 


78  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

of  y^  iron  workes  informed  me  y*  y"  die  for  y^  pieces 
was  made  at  hjs  workes,  and  y*  hjs  wife  did  draw  y® 
famous  design  y'  appears  thereon.  These  be  y®  first 
pieces  made  in  y*^  land.  And  we  do  hope  y*  y®  mint 
may  be  kept  in  motion.  It  will  be  a  long  time  before 
our  needes  be  supplied.  And  as  we  be  a  growing 
people,  and  our  trade  greatlie  encreases,  we  shall  never 
be  overstocked  for  monie. 

1653.  Ap'^l  y''  14:  Mch  debate  was  held  at  y«  last 
publick  meeting  concerning  y^  buryal  place.  I  did  make 
motion  to  haue  a  faire  wall  raised  around  y®  same  and 
some  unseemlie  heaps  of  stone  and  gatherings  of  thornie 
brambles  removed.  But  most  would  haue  jt  y*^  we 
neede  do  nothing;  y*  y^  cost  would  be  great  and  no 
gaine  come  thereby  to  y®  dead  or  living ;  saying  too 
y'  when  y''  bodie  is  buried  jt  be  dust  given  backe  to 
duste ;  and  y"  golden  chain  being  broken  at  y*^  grave, 
there  should  end  all  our  care;  and  y' jt  be  but  supersti- 
tion to  make  show  and  pomp  aboute  y®  dead  as  doe 
manie  Churchmen  and  Catholics.  Surelie  we  doe  bless 
God  y*  there  be  a  resurrection  of  our  better  part  from 
y*^  foule  niay.  But  stilly"  hearte  will  sometimes  haue 
its  way  above  reason,  and  love  best  to  think  of  y®  dear 
ones  lying  in  pleasant  places.  I  do  hope  y*  if  these 
things  be  not  done  by  this  generation,  y^  time  will 
come  when  others  will  doe  y*  same  ;  for  y^  ground 
may  be  made  verie  faire  wth  y®  ponde  and  manie  noble 
trees. 

1654.  Iiine  y«  20:  Mch  grief  hath  fallen  on  M--  Whit- 
ing and  his  familie.  Y^  Indjan  maid  Ruth,  whom  they 
did  so  mch  love,  on  y®  last  Lord  his  daie  did  run  aAvaie 
and  again  join  herself  to  her  heathen  people  of  y®  wil- 
derness. It  be  now  eiglit  years  or  thereabout  since 
y''  godhe  minister  took  her  a  gift  from  her  Indjan 
mother  to  bring  her  vpp  in  y''  nurture  and  admonition 
of  y''  Lord.  And  she  liath  been  these  manie  years  as 
one  of  hjs  own  children,  eating  of  hjs  own  bread  and 
drinking  of  his  own  cupp,  receiving  godlie  instruction 
at  meeting  and   under  his   roofe  and  learning  at  hjs' 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  79 

schoole.  And  she  did  trulie  seem  like  a  fresh  bloom- 
ing wilde  flower,  wch  we  so  loved  to  liken  her  unto. 
And  she  had  too  a  loving  hearte  as  well  as  bright  mind, 
cleaving  wth  mob  tenderness  vnto  y®  good  man  whom 
she  did  call  father,  weeping  at  his  paines  and  rejoicing 
at  his  pleasures.  But  she  hath  gon.  And  tho  she  hath 
done  a  great  seeming  wrong,  yet  may  it  somewhat 
abate  when  well  considered.  It  is  hard  to  overcome 
our  first  love.  Y^  hearte  will  sometimes  turn  back 
while  y'^  eyes  look  forward.  She  hath  gone  to  her  for- 
est home,  awaie  from  our  christian  habitations,  their 
comforts  and  blessings,  from  our  protection  and  godlie 
instructions.  In  y®  wigwam,  her  learning  will  stand 
her  in  poore  stead  against  cold  and  hunger,  and  she 
will  tear  vpp  her  braive  red  scarf  to  adoi-n  her  dark 
lover  his  speare.  But  sunshine  hatli  once  broken  into 
her  soule  and  blessed  bee  God,  all  y*^  mists  of  heathen- 
ism cannot  smother  jt  out  again.  And  I  did  say  to 
Master  Whiting,  seeminglie  mch  to  his  comfort,  y*  she 
maie  yet  be  a  meanes  of  grace  to  manie  a  poore  red 
man.  God  grant  it  —  and  likewise  mch  happiness  to 
her  both  here  and  hereafter. 

1655.  Aug*  y®  7 :  Some  have  bin  mch  exercised  touch- 
ing y®  heavenlie  signs  wch  have  of  late  appeared ;  as  a 
noble  shipp  wth  sailes  spread,  lifted  high  in  aire,  saile- 
ing  bravelie  against  y®  wind,  and  so  out  beneath  a 
beautjfnll  rainbow  ;  y*^  trees,  yea  and  rocks  of  Nahaun- 
tus  lit'ted  high  in  air ;  y®  islands  wch  be  half  a  score  of 
miles  in  y®  offing  seeminglie  brot  nigh  to  y^  shore,  in- 
somuch y*  we  could  well  descrj"  cattill  and  sheep  graz- 
ing thereon.  Tho  these  be  wonderfull  things,  yet  they 
be  so  ravishing  y*  we  may  well  say  that  they  can  not 
betoken  evill  to  come,  but  contrarywise,  good.  And 
blessed  be  God  they  have  turned  to  y*^  good  of  some  ; 
as  Obed  Oliver,  his  speech,  wch  had  before  bin  mch 
distempered  wth  prophanitie,  hath  now  become  of  bet- 
ter qualitie.  And  Gooddie  Welch  hath  turned  from 
her  unchaste  ways,  and  craved  y®  sacrament  of  M^ 
Whiting.  We  do  well  remember  y^  phantom  shipp  that 
sailed  into  y®  harbour  of  New  Haven  half  a  score  of 


80  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

years  agone,  and  did  weep  over  jt  as  bearing  tidings 
of  y''  loss  of  Captaine  Turner,  wth  y^  other  noble  men. 
But  that  shadow  fell  to  pieces  as  betokening  a  wreck ; 
not  so  y**  appearance  here. 

1656.  Decern'"  y®  15 :  Y**  reverend  teacher,  M'*  Cob- 
bett  did  leave  vs  this  year  haueing  been  with  vs  about 
a  score  of  yeares.  He  hath  greatlie  helped  M""  Whiting 
in  hjs  laboures  and  they  lived  together  in  y"  most 
friendlie  and  christian  way ;  he  doeing  mch  in  cate- 
chizing and  instructing  y®  children.  He  hath  good 
learning,  having  once  been  an  Episcopal  minister  in 
Lincolnshire.  And  he  hath  mch  witt  and  curious 
knowledg.  He  knowing  mch  of  public  affaires,  hath 
composed  some  poetry  on  matters  of  government,  wch 
made  some  stir  among  y^  people,  some  scolding  and 
some  laughing.     He  is  mch  thot  of  abroad,  we  hear. 

In  person,  M^  Cobbett  is  rather  short  and  a  little 
stoopeing.  He  hath  thick  lipps  and  eyes  seeminglie 
full  of  mirth.  He  loveth  mch  to  take  long  walks,  in  y^ 
woodes  and  on  y^  beaches :  and  he  goeth  with  one 
hand  ahind  hjs  back  and  wth  hjs  eyes  toward  y"^  ground, 
as  if  in  great  studie,  and  I  think  he  be  in  studie,  as  one 
being  neare  him  may  see  him  sometimes  smile,  some- 
times frowne  and  sometimes  talk  vnto  himself.  Hjs 
haire  is  dark  and  verrie  thin  and  he  sometimes  weareth 
a  little  black  capp,  at  y®  meetinges  mch  to  y®  amuse- 
ment of  y^  young  folk. 

But  in  walk  and  conversation  Master  Cobbett  is  a 
right  godlie  man ;  and  in  temper  loving  peace  and 
goode  will,  wch  maketh  amends  for  all  other  things 
that  be  wanting.  He  is  a  good  friend  to  all  y''  children 
and  they  love  mch  to  meet  him.  He  laboreth  to  make 
them  good  and  apt  to  learn.  And  he  saith  y*  by  soe 
doing  he  is  preparing  y"  foundation  stones  for  a  great 
nation.  He  hath  been  installed  at  y''  church  in  Ips- 
witch,  I  hear. 

1657.  March  y^  27:  This  day  hath  been  y°  funerall 
of  Goodman  Burrill.  We  had  plentie  of  wine  and 
cyder  and  stronge  liquors,  and  sugar  wherewith  to 


OBADIAH    TURNER.  81 

sweeten  y®  same.  Several  did  drinke  more  tlian  was 
meete  and  bring  great  scandal  vpon  y'^  occasion.  Wid- 
dow  Hamsteade  did  do  in  y'  way  and  make  prophane 
and  indecent  speeches,  much  tu  y*^  mortification  of  y^ 
friends.  Uerilie  I  think  it  not  meet  to  offer  strong 
drinks  at  such  times.  A  little  wine  for  y^  women  and 
near  friends,  and  cyder  for  y^  men  is  enow.  But  y*^ 
giving  of  gloves  and  rings  if  they  can  be  afforded  can 
be  in  no  wise  harmeful.  A  famous  pair  of  gloves  did 
fall  to  me  on  this  occasion.  It  was  dark  night  before 
y^  bodie  was  in  y*^  grave,  and  a  cold  rain  set  in  wch 
wth  y®  snow  upon  y®  ground  hath  made  y®  trauelling 
verrie  plashie  and  bad,  and  y®  rain  continueth  to  this 
hour. 

I  think  y*  y^  Bible  should  be  read  and  praiers  always 
made  at  y*^  burial  of  y^  dead.  No  matter  if  they  of  y® 
Church  of  England  do  y®  same.  Must  we  dispise  a 
good  thing  because  they  do  approve  jt?  Y"  custom, 
I  am  glad  is  growing  among  vs.  Christian  feeling  and 
good  sense  methinks  will  finally  master  y"  preiudices 
y*  still  linger  among  vs.  And  I  dare  prophesie  y'  y*' 
time  will  come  Avhen  none,  even  here  in  this  puritan 
land,  will  be  carried  to  y^  grave  withoute  praiers. 
And  wth  y®  same  faith  I  dare  prophesie  likewise  y*  y® 
time  will  come  when  strong  drinks  will  not  be  had  at 
funeralls,  even  among  y®  puritans. 

lune  y®  8th :  Lord  protect  us.  My  neighbour  Pur- 
chiss  hath  run  in  to  stir  up  hue  and  crie  on  a  terrible 
deed  of  blood  y'  he  saith  they  report  hath  iust  been 
committed,  by  olde  Rattlesnake,  y*^  Naticke  Indjan,  hee 
having  killed  Goodman  Anderson,  his  daughter,  and 
likewise  her  betrothed,  who  hath  latel}^  come  hither, 
they  being  with  y®  party  of  young  people  in  y®  woodes 
to'-day.  I  yet  doubt  y*  so  dreadful  a  thing  hath  been 
done,  tho  we  do  well  know  y'  M''  Anderson  hath  wrath- 
full  enemies  amongst  y®  savages. 

1658.   Decem"^  y®  14:    This  year  there  hath  been  a 
great  and  terrible  earthquake  ;  such  a  one  as  was  never 
before  known  hereabouts.    Y^  houses  shook  and  dishes 
D*  6 


82  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

did  fall  down  from  y®  shelves.  Some  being  out  did 
feel  y®  ground  rock.  Y®  sea  roared  wth  a  dismal  roare- 
ing,  as  if  a  mightie  storme  was  coming  on.  And  some 
being  near  y®  shore  said  y"  tide  was  turned  before  y® 
time.  Some  chimnies  were  shook  down,  but  not  mch 
michief  done  of  wch  I  have  heard.  In  y*'  morning  y*^ 
air  was  so  yellow,  like  vnto  brasse,  and  thicke,  y*  we 
did  fear  some  great  evil  to  come.  But  y®  most  mightie 
worke  done  by  y®  earthquake,  hereaboutes,  was  y" 
splitting  of  a  great  rock  in  y'^  woods.  '  It  hatli  by  some 
been  called  y**  Dungeon  Rocke,  because  there  appeared 
to  be  beneath  y®  same  a  dungeon  cave.  And  jt  hath 
been  said  y'  Thomas  Veal,  a  crooked,  grizzley  and  ill 
looking  shoemaker  did  live  in  y®  cave  and  do  his  shoe- 
making  there.  Some  of  vs  did  use  to  purchase  his 
works  of  him;  for  tho  not  neat  and  comelie  to  looke 
vpon,  yet  they  were  strong  and  tight ;  iust  what  we 
want  where  there  be  so  many  stumps  and  briars  and 
so  much  mud  and  plash  at  times.  On  y®  splitting  of  y^ 
rock  by  y'^  earthquake  as  some  think  y''  old  man  was 
shut  vp  alive  in  y*^  cave  ;  and  no  great  loss  to  y®  world 
as  th(\y  vrill  have  jt ;  he  not  bceing  thot  well  of  Some 
say  he  was  once  a  pirate  robber  and  did  bury  treasure 
hereabout.  But  it  seemeth  strange  if  jt  be  so,  y'  he 
should  live  so  poorlie  and  work  so  hard.  He  did  often 
come  among  vs  to  trade  hjs  shoes  for  provisions,  and 
hath  been  known,  but  not  often,  to  haue  some  small 
pieces  of  Spanish  monie.  It  hath  been  further  sayed 
y*  he  was  one  of  a  number  of  pirate  robbers  y*  lived 
hidden  in  a  glen  by  j®  river  towardes  y®  Iron  Workes. 

1660.  Octo--  y«  30  :  We  hear  y*  M^  Burton  hath  been 
to  y*'  Courte  to  complaine  of  Winnie  lohnstone  for  y® 
keeping  of  Christmas  wch  jt  is  said  is  not  lawful  here. 
But  God  forbid  y'  it  should  be  unlawful  to  keep  y® 
holie  birthday  of  y®  Savioure  of  mankind.  We  did 
hope  y'  sch  things  might  not  be  in  this  pleasant  lande, 
where  there  be  manie  who  tho  no  churchmen  yet  be 
willing  to  acknowledge  sound  doctrine,  tho  churchmen 
yea  even  popish  catholicks  doe  y''  same.  And  y"  min- 
ister, Mister  Whiting,  thinketh  such  things  grievous, 


OBADIAH    TUENER.  83 

he  being  of  large  minde  and  good  heart,  and  yet  far 
enow  from  y®  establishment.  But  y^  first  minister, 
Master  Batcheldor,  was  stout  to  beat  down  everie 
sproute  of  y®  episcopacie  in  this  puritan  soil. 

1G63.  Decern'"  y^  10:  Mch  distress  hath  been  in  y« 
churches  about  y*^  Quakers  who  be  now  rampant  in  y® 
land.  Y^  laws  and  y''  magistrates  be  hard  vpon  them. 
Women  as  well  as  men  have  been  stript  and  whipped 
at  y*^  carts  taile  for  manie  miles  from  town  to  town. 
And  some  have  been  brought  to  y*^  gallows.  Y*^  more 
peeple  be  put  vpon  for  their  belief  y*^  more  do  they  set 
theire  faces  against  changing  their  ways.  And  besides, 
ones  religion  is  a  matter  betwixt  him  and  his  God. 
He  should  be  let  alone  so  long  as  he  injureth  not  and 
interfereth  not  wth  others  ;  wch  keeping  to  themselves 
1  am  sorrie  to  say  seemeth  not  always  to  haue  been  y® 
case  wth  y"  Quakers.  Yet  do  I  think  y*  our  laws  and 
our  magistrates  have  been  mch  too  hard  vpon  them, 
and  vpon  others  that  do  not  think  alike  wth  vs.  Sure- 
lie  wee,  of  all  people,  ought  to  know  how  pretious  lib- 
ertie  of  conscience  is,  for  manie  of  vs  here  haue  suffered 
enow  for  its  sake.  And  I  do  say  y*  a  church  y*^  cannot 
stand  of  its  own  strength  ought  to  ftdl.  And  1  doe  say 
further,  y'  when  one  strippeth  naked  and  goeth  about 
uttering  lamentations  and  outcries  against  y®  evil  ways 
of  y^  people,  they  themselves  are  in  evil  ways  and 
should  be  dealt  with  by  y*'  civil  power,  be  they  Quak- 
ers or  what  nots.  And  so  I  end  my  says  about  y*" 
matter. 

1671.  Marche  y^  30:  Y''  past  year  hath  been  one 
mightie  in  stormes.  A  great  and  terrible  snow  fell  in 
y*'  middle  of  lanuarie,  insomuch  y*"  houses  were  buried 
to  y®  chimnies.  Y®  poore  cattle  suffered  grievously, 
being  wthout  food  and  drink  for  days,  none  being  able 
to  get  unto  them.  One  getting  out  of  his  chamber 
window  thinking  to  go  to  a  neighbor  his  house,  did  sink 
down  in  y®  snow  till  nothing  of  him  appeared,  and  he 
came  nigh  being  stifled.  But  y^  window  being  left 
open,  his  wife  did  hear  a  small  cry,  and  hastylie  throw- 


M  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

ing  out  y®  table  top,  did  get  thereon  and  help  him  to 
recover  himself,  Presentlie  after  there  came  a  day  of 
melting,  and  then  a  mightie  cold,  wch  froze  y*'  snow 
hard  enow  to  bear  y®  stoutest  man.  And  Ave  did  travel 
forth,  sometimes  greeting  our  neighbours  at  their  cham- 
ber windows,  and  were  able  to  grasp  y®  tops  of  y" 
trees. 

Again,  of  a  Lord  his  day  in  y®  middle  of  Male,  there 
did  come  such  a  storm  of  thunder  and  lightning  as 
was  never  before  known  among  vs.  It  began  iust 
within  y®  night  wth  a  high  wind  and  some  hail,  wch  did 
break  and  beat  down  all  ye  grain  and  other  things 
planted  y*  were  grown  above  ground.  Y''  thunder 
and  lightning  were  terrible  to  witness.  Farmer  Harte 
his  barn  was  struck  and  set  on  fire,  and  his  famous 
brindle  cow  killed.  A  great  rock  by  y®  back  road  was 
likewise  struck  and  y*^  noise  of  y®  explocion  was  awfull 
indeed. 

In  lulie  a  direfull  whirlwind  did  pass  thro  y®  settle- 
ment. Its  path  was  about  two  poles  in  width,  and  its 
violence  exceeding  great.  Trees,  fences,  yea,  houses, 
all  y*  stood  in  its  way  were  cleared  like  chaff.  Good- 
man Collins  his  house  standing  in  its  way  was  cut  off 
and  y®  part  carried  manie  poles  and  dashed  into  y® 
pond,  a  heap  of  ruins.  Widow  Bridges  her  house  was 
taken  up  bodilie  and  turned  over  first  vpon  its  top  and 
then  down  y®  bank  into  y®  creek,  and  twas  a  mercie  y* 
she  was  not  in  jt,  she  having  just  before  gone  out  to 
pick  vp  some  chipps.  My  own  well  curb  was  taken  vp 
by  y®  wind  and  carried  thro  y®  air  over  y®  tops  of 
houses  and  trees,  and  dashed  to  pieces  on  y®  ground  a 
long  walk  away.  Gooddy  Billin  being  out  wth  her 
apron  thrown  over  her  head,  y®  wind  took  both  her 
apron  and  her  capp  of  goat  hair  and  lodged  them  in 
y®  top  of  y®  great  beach  tree  near  y°  minister  his  house. 
And  after  y®  blow  was  over  they  in  y®  house  were  some 
mirthful,  saying  y*  y®  wind  was  so  strong  as  to  blow  y® 
haire  off  her  heade.  After  y®  terrible  whirlwind  was 
past,  wch  was  not  manie  minutes,  some  did  go  out  to 
see  y®  road  y*  it  had  cut  and  to  wonder  at  y®  great  de- 
struction.    A  number  of  beastes  and  birds,  a  few  killed 


OBADIAH   TURNEE.  85 

and  others  so  lamed  y*  they  could  not  get  away  were 
pickt  up ;  and  some  did  live  daintilie  for  one  day  cer- 
taine. 

1679.  Iuney*20:  It  is  now  fiftie  years  since  this 
now  famous  towne  was  first  begun.  Wee  have  grown 
from  y®  small  beginning  of  about  a  score  of  poore  pil- 
grims dropt  as  it  were  in  y®  sauvage  wilderness,  to  be 
a  people  well  to  doe  and  manie  in  number.  And  all 
this  by  God  his  blessing  for  which  his  name  be  praised. 

Wee  have  good  houses  and  gardens  and  large  fields 
well  cleared  and  sufficient  for  growing  all  wee  need 
and  more  for  exchange  for  such  from  abroad  as  we  de- 
sire ;  for  it  is  always  wth  a  people  y*  their  cravings 
increase  wth  their  means.  Wee  have  horses  and  cattle 
and  piggs  and  fowles  in  aboundance.  And  have  we  not 
enow  wth  all  these.  So  let  vs  thank  God  for  his  un- 
deserved bountie  and  purge  our  hearts  from  all  un- 
cleanness. 

Wee  haue  butchers  to  supply  vs  wth  flesh  meat  and 
fishermen  to  supply  vs  wth  fish  both  fresh  and  salted, 
likewise  clams  and  other  meat  from  y®  sea.  And  we 
have  smiths,  carpenters,  and  brick  layers  ;  shoemakers, 
weavers  and  manie  other  handicraftsmen  to  make  and 
mend  for  our  comfort.  Who,  then,  are  better  provided 
than  we.  And  for  y®  same,  we  doe  againe  and  wth- 
out  ceaseing  thank  God.  But  above  all  doe  we  bless 
his  holie  name  for  our  gospell  priviledges.for  our  aboun- 
dance of  good  preaching  and  diligent  catechising ;  like- 
wise for  the  faire  schooles  wherein  our  children  are 
taught. 

Wee  prospered  under  Charles  y^  firste ;  we  prosper- 
ed under  Cromwell  and  y®  Commonwealth ;  and  wee 
yet  prosper  under  Charles  y®  second.  But  wch  was 
y"  greatest  prosperitie  I  do  not  rightlie  know.  Wee 
had  most  libertie  under  Cromwell,  and  were  not  soe 
often  called  to  account  for  our  doings  ;  being  moreover 
allowed  to  doe  most  for  ourselves  by  way  of  gouern- 
ment.  And  had  y®  gouernment  wch  he  established  bin 
continued  I  doubt  not  y*  we,  when  strong  enough  to 
protect  ourselves  would  haue  been  made  independent. 


86  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

But  y^  monarchie  being  now  againe  established,  and  y* 
being  y"  most  costlie  kind  of  gouernment,  I  fear  y*  we 
shall  be  held  whether  we  will  or  no,  in  hopes  y'  our 
trade  and  growing  riches  may  turne  out  to  be  a  help 
to  y^  crown.  But  haue  wee  not,  as  they  say,  cut  our 
own  fodder.  Haue  we  not  cleared  our  own  fields, 
caught  our  owue  fish  wth  our  owne  bait,  and  fought 
our  owne  battles  wth  y**  Indjans  as  witness  y*"  great 
Pequot  war  fortie  yeares  agone  and  y*'  war  wth  King 
Philip  of  late.  And  are  we  not  rightlie  some  proud  of 
our  doings.  But  after  all  I  doe  think  y''  y''  destinie  of 
a  people  is  under  God,  wth  themselves.  Wth  intelli- 
gence, energie,  frugalitie  and  Industrie  they  will  pros- 
per, tho  they  be  set  downe  in  a  barren  land.  And  we 
have  taken  much  paines  to  haue  good  schooles  to  make 
vs  intelligent;  to  haue  good  exhortations  to  persever- 
ence,  economic  and  activitie ;  and  good  lawes  to  make 
vs  industrious.  Shall  wee  not  then,  continue  to  pros- 
per whatever  they  doe  aboute  vs  over  y^  water.  If 
they  do  illy  by  vs  while  wee  be  weak,  when  wee  get 
strong  enough  wee  Avill  surelie  haue  a  reckoning  wth 
them.  So  y"  wheels  being  now  in  motion  on  y**  right 
roade  let  vs  keep  moveing. 

Decem''  y^  12:  Yester  even  died  y^  dear  &  reverend 
M""  Whiting.  He  hath  laboured  among  vs  this  fortie 
yeare  and  vpwards,  and  was  mch  beloved  both  here 
and  abroad.  Hjs  godlie  temper  was  seen  in  y"^  sweet 
smile  y*  he  alwaies  wore.  Hjs  learning  was  great.  In 
y®  Hebrewe  jt  hath  been  said  none  on  this  side  of  y° 
water  could  come  vp  to  him.  He  greatlie  labored  for 
y®  children,  and  for  manie  yeares  would  haue  as  manie 
as  he  could  come  to  hjs  house  on  everie  Lord  his  day 
after  y®  publique  worship  was  over,  and  be  catechized 
and  instructed  by  him  in  Bible  truths.  And  on  week 
daies  he  also  instructed  y^  children,  such  as  would,  in 
Latin  and  other  learning  of  y®  schooles.  He  was  not 
fond  of  disputations  and  wordie  wranglings  about  doc- 
trine, but  laid  down  hjs  poynts  plainlie  and  then  firmlie 
defended  them  by  y"  scriptures,  not  taking  y''  time,  as 
y®  manner  of  some  is,  to  tell  how  others  look  vpon  y" 


OBADIAH    TURNER.  87 

same  and  then  to  tell  how  false  was  y®  eye  wth  wch 
they  looked.  He  writ  some  things  y''  came  out  in 
print  and  all  testified  to  their  being  sound  in  doctrine, 
liberal  in  sentiment,  and  plain  and  practical). 

M'^  Whiting  was  a  good  liver  saying  y'  he  did  not 
find  y''  mortifying  y''  flesh  meant  pinching  y*^  stomach. 
Hjs  wife  was  a  right  comelie  dame  and  belonged  to  a 
great  familie,  being  Chief  lustice  Saint  John  his 
sister.  She  was  a  godlie  woman  and  did  mch  to 
chear  and  help  her  husband.  By  her  learning  she  was 
able  to  giue  mch  instruction  to  y®  damsels  of  y*^  parish, 
and  they  did  all  love  her  as  she  were  a  tender  mother. 
She  died  some  above  two  yeares  agone ;  and  he  did 
greatlie  mourn  for  her. 

M""  Whiting  had  a  noble  garden  wherein  were  deli- 
cious fruits  and  raanie  good  things  for  kitchen  vse. 
He  had  a  score  of  appill  trees,  from  wch  he  made  de- 
licious cyder.  And  jt  hath  been  said  y'  an  Indjan  once 
coming  to  hjs  house,  and  Mistress  Whiting  giving  him 
a  drink  of  y^  cyder,  he  did  set  down  y*^  pot  and  smak- 
ing  hjs  lipps  say  y*  Adam  and  Eve  were  rightlie 
damned  for  eating  y*^  appills  in  y®  garden  of  Eden  ; 
they  should  haue  made  them  into  cyder. 

M'"  Whiting  was  of  a  quiet  temper  and  not  mch  giuen 
to  extasies,  but  yet  he  would  sometimes  take  a  merrie 
part  in  pleasant  companie.  Once  coming  among  a  gay 
partie  of  young  people  he  kist  all  y^  maides  and  said  y* 
he  felt  all  y''  better  for  jt.  And  I  think  they  too  felt 
all  y"  better  for  jt,  for  they  did  hug  their  armes  around 
hjs  neck  and  kiss  him  back  again  right  warmlie ;  they 
all  soe  loved  him. 

For  y^  few  past  yeares  M""  Whiting  hath  been  mch 
exercised  by  sickness.  His  paynes  haue  at  times  been 
Boe  greate  y*  he  must  needes  cry  out.  But  he  bore  all 
wth  godlie  patience  and  had  kind  wordes  for  them  y' 
were  by  him. 

He  was  a  man  of  middle  size,  dark  skin  and  straight 
fine  hair.  Hjs  hands  were  white  and  soft  mch  like 
some  fine  ladys.  In  preaching  he  did  not  mch  exercise 
hjs  bodie.  But  hjs  clear  voice  and  pleasant  way  were 
as  potent  to  hold  fast  y*^  thoughts  of  old  and  young. 


88  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

He  had  great  care  in  his  dress  while  preaching,  saying 
y'  hjs  hearers  should  not  be  made  to  haue  their  eyes 
vpon  an  unseemlie  object,  lest  y*^  good  instruction  might 
be  swallowed  vp  in  disgust.  And  for  a  reason  like 
vnto  y*  he  would  also  have  hjs  discourses  in  milde 
and  winning  wordes.  In  generall  y''  sermon  would  be 
an  hour  and  a  half  long  and  y''  long  praier  another  half 
houre,  wch  wth  y®  reading  of  y^  scriptures  and  y®  sing- 
ing would  make  y*^  whole  above  two  hours ;  y*'  hour 
glass  upon  y''  pulpitt  telling  y**  time.  He  did  not  love 
sleepers  in  meeting  time  and  would  sometimes  stop 
short  in  y*^  exercises,  calling  pleasantlie  to  some  one  to 
come  and  wake  y®  sleepers.  And  once  of  a  warm  sum- 
mer afternoon  he  did  take  hjs  hat  from  y''  peg  in  y® 
beam  and  put  it  on  saying  he  would  goe  home  and 
feed  hjs  fowles  and  come  back  again,  when  may  be, 
their  sleep  would  be  ended,  and  they  readie  to  hear  y® 
remainder  of  his  discourse.  And  at  another  time  he 
did  exclaim  y*  he  wished  for  y®  Church  of  England 
service,  wch  by  making  them  rise  and  sit  often,  would 
keep  them  awake.  And  this  wishing  for  y"  Episcopal 
service  one  may  be  sure  was  competent  to  keep  some 
eyes  open  for  a  month  to  come. 

Y®  towne  was  called  Lin  in  compliment  to  M""  Whit- 
ing who  came  here  from  Lin  in  old  Norfolke.  Before, 
wee  were  called  Saugust,  wch  wee  did  not  mch  like, 
some  nicknameing  vs  Saw-dust.  Most  thot  y*^  name  a 
good  one,  tho  some  would  have  it  y'  it  was  too  short. 
But  to  such  wee  said,  then  spell  it  Lynne.  Y*-'  change 
was  made  fortie  yeare  and  more  agone  :  [1637]  :  and 
none  now  find  fault. 

M""  Whiting  his  funerall  js  appointed  to  be  on  third 
day  next.  And  y®  whole  towne  is  alreadie  in  an  up- 
roar wth  preparations.  Wee  must  entertain  manie 
from  abroad  and  greate  store  of  meate  and  drink  will 
be  needful. 

1680.  Dec'"  y''  19 :  When  y^  great  and  terrible  comet 
of  y"  present  yeare  appeared  wth  jts  fiery  tayl  reaching 
nigh  half  way  acrost  y*"  heavens  and  allmost  as  bright 
as  y*"  moone,  wee  did  greatlie  feare  y'  some  dire  calam- 


OBADIAH  TURNER.  89, 

itie  was  soon  to  break  vpon  vs.  For  manie  days  after 
it  departed,  a  wonderfull  fogg  or  smoke  did  fall  vpon 
vs  everie  day.  It  had  a  strong  smell  of  brimstone  and 
was  not  wet  like  other  foggs ;  and  it  seemed  to  come 
wth  y®  wind,  blow  wch  way  jt  would.  Wee  did  at  first 
think  jt  to  be  y"  smoke  of  great  fires  in  y®  woods  ;  but 
jt  could  not  be  y' :  nor  could  jt  be  a  fogg  from  y^  sea ; 
and  we  knew  not  what  it  was.  Sometimes  in  y^ 
middest  of  y**  night  jt  made  y*^  aire  so  light  y^  we  could 
read  thereby.  But  no  great  evill  hath  yet  come  vppon 
vs,  save  y*'  storme  about  y^  time  of  y''  equinox.  Our 
Plantation  hath  prospered  wth  great  prosperitie.  And 
God  grant  y*  these  wonders  be  not  y^  forerunners  of 
calamities  yet  to  come.     Hjs  name  be  praised. 

1681.  Ocfy'^17:  Another  parish  meeting  hath  been 
held  wherein  y®  village  orators  made  mch  discourse 
about  y*^  new  Meeting  House  to  be  built  next  year. 
Somewhat  hath  alreadie  been  done  in  y^  way  of  getting 
out  y®  fraime.  It  will  be  a  famous  house  and  one  of 
wch  wee  may  be  a  little  proud.  Y®  time  hath  been 
when  our  neighbours  of  y"  other  townes  haue  spoken 
scornfullie  of  our  poore  plaice  of  worshipp ;  but  everie 
tide  will  turne.  M""  Shepard,  y"  new  minister,  had  a 
hand  in  y®  plan  as  I  hear.  Y"  plan  hath  been  vp  in  y^ 
old  meeting  house  porch  for  some  Lord  his  days  mch 
like  a  marriage  notis.  And  everie  one  seeing  jt  hath 
some  better  notion  of  his  owne  for  this  or  that  part. 
And  one  might  know  y*  sch  would  be  y''  case.  I  being 
on  y®  comitte  did  counsell  y^  others  to  go  on  &  ask  opin- 
ions of  none  save  y*  builders.  To  make  publique  re- 
queste  for  opinions,  and  then  not  follow  what  we  get 
sows  evill  seeds  among  vs.  But  when  one  gets  advice 
wthout  asking,  no  blame  is  vpon  him  if  he  doe  not  fol- 
low it.  Some  declare  y*  y'^  top  part  will  look  like  vnto 
a  huge  tunnell  standing  wth  y"  bottom  vp.  But  then 
some  be  always  thinking  of  tunnells  or  tankards  or 
what  runs  thro  them  down  their  throates.  Y®  women 
seem  well  pleased  to  haue  a  new  house.  And  y®  young 
folk  promise  greate  helps  on  their  parte. 

Y°  spot  whereon  y®  building  is  to  stand,  being  on  y® 


90  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

open  coraon  land  is  easie  to  be  got  to  from  all  parts. 
True,  there  be  but  few  habitations  thereabout,  and  y* 
bleak  winds  of  winter  will  blow  harde  vpon  it.  But  a 
few  old  forest  trees  yet  stand  thereby  and  y^  green  hil- 
locks are  pleasant  to  stand  vpon  and  look  over  to  y^ 
water.  On  y"  whole  wee  count  jt  a  verie  fair  plaice. 
And  my  prophesie  is  y*  new  comers  will  soon  set  down 
there  and  build  houses  ;  and  before  y^  new  house 
grows  old  manie  others  will  be  there  to  keep  it  com- 
panie. 

Y®  new  minister,  M""  Shepard,  we  find  sound  in  doc- 
trine and  strong  in  speech ;  but  wonderful  grave  and 
solemn,  wch,  after  M""  Whiting,  seemeth  like  clouds 
after  sunshine.  Wee  doubt  not  hjs  pietie  ;  but  pietie 
recomended  by  gloom  cometh  wth  but  a  poore  recom- 
end.  However,  he  is  mch  of  a  stranger  wth  vs  as  yet. 
He  dresseth  in  black  cloathes  and  weareth  black  gloves 
in  y'^  pulpit,  wch  he  must  needes  cut  off  at  y*^  finger 
ends,  y''  wch  is  done  to  enable  hjm  to  turne  over  y^ 
book  leaves.  His  age  wee  think  about  thirtie  and 
three.  He  is  middling  tall  in  person  and  hath  strong 
and  well  shaped  limbs.  He  walketh  mch,  and  with  a 
brisque  step;  and  seemeth  fond  of  taking  long  solitary 
walkes  on  y^  beaches  and  in  y^  woodes.  He  hath  de- 
clared himself  not  over  fond  of  musick  and  said  y*  if  jt 
were  done  away  wth  in  y®  meetings  more  time  would 
be  left  for  y<^  preaching,  wch  setteth  not  well  wth 
some  ;  for  there  be  those  who  would  even  love  to  haue 
y*^  good  old  chaunts  of  y''  church.  And  to  me  jt  seem- 
eth y*  preachers  are  apt  to  think  more  of  their  preach- 
ing than  some  others  doe.  Preaching  and  y®  worshipp 
of  God  in  psalms  and  hymns  are  both  good.  I  dont  say 
wch  is  most  to  be  desired,  but  thinke  part  of  both  sets 
best. 

And  now  we  are  admonished  to  close  the  journal  of 
the  good  old  settler.  His  honesty  of  heart  and  quaint- 
ness  of  style  must  have  possessed  such  a  charm,  that 
no  reader,  we  are  persuaded,  can  have  passed  over 
unheeded  any  passage.      Many  of  the   brighter   and 


■     OBADIAH   TURNER.  91 

darker  phases  of  early  colonial  times  have  been  given, 
as  well  as  faithful  glimpses  of  the  every  day  life  of  a 
community  of  genuine  old  Yankee  fathers. 

In  the  introductory  observations  we  said  something 
about  the  orthography  of  the  journalist.  Very  little 
change  has  been  made  by  us;  no  change  excepting 
where  it  seemed  necessary,  to  avoid  perplexity  to  the 
reader.  One  of  tlie  most  curious  things  in  all  the  writ- 
ing and  much  of  the  printing  of  that  period  is  the  va- 
riety of  ways  in  which  the  same  word  is  often  spelled. 
We  are  led  to  believe  that  there  could  have  been  no 
acknowledged  standard.  During  the  latter  years  em- 
braced in  the  journal,  however,  a  considerable  degree 
of  uniformity  had  been  attained  in  printing.  But  in 
writing,  the  free  and  independent  use  of  the  alphabet 
was  still  persisted  in. 

There  is  an  old  printing  oflSce  tradition,  by  the  way, 
to  the  effect  that  in  the  early  days  of  the  art  the  means 
for  spacing  the  lines  were  so  imperfect  that  the  com- 
positor was  allowed  to  add  or  omit  in  any  word  such 
letters  as  might  be  convenient,  provided  the  right 
sounds  were  expressed.  And  by  tracing  the  progress 
of  the  art,  it  seems  as  if  some  such  custom  must  have 
prevailed,  and  that  it  fell  into  disuse  as  the  necessities 
for  it  were  obviated. 

Having  concluded  our  extracts,  it  may  be  proper  to 
introduce  a  few  remarks  and  details  illustrative  of  cer- 
tain matters  called  to  mind  as  we  proceeded. 

Our  journalist,  under  date  of  1640,  has  something  to 
say  regarding  the  Indians,  their  habits  and  occupa- 
tions, their  poverty  and  weakness.  And  his  allusion 
to  land  tenures,  leads  us  to  think  that  as  many  read- 
ers may  not  have  taken  an  opportunity  to  examine  the 


92  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

interesting  subject,  a  few  plain  observations  on  that 
and  kindred  matters  may  not  be  unacceptable. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  and  important  topics  in 
the  whole  range  of  American  history  is  that  relating  to 
the  dispossession  of  the  Indian  tribes  and  the  occupa- 
tion of  their  lands  by  the  European  settlers.  Our  fore- 
fathers have  been  visited  with  unmeasured  opprobrium 
for  their  course  of  alleged  injustice  and  oppression. 
And  a  great  deal  of  sympathy  has  been  excited  for  the 
forlorn  race  who  were  deemed  wrongful  sufferers  un- 
der inexcusable  aggression.  But  by  taking  a  more 
extended  view,  the  case  may  appear  different ;  not, 
however,  that  there  were  not  constantly  transpiring 
individual  cases  of  great  enormity. 

Those  who  imagine  that  the  colonists  made  an  indis- 
criminate seizure  of  the  Indian  lands,  in  all  cases  where 
their  power  was  sufficient,  greatly  err.  And  those 
who  imagine  that  the  royal  charters  afforded  the  gran- 
tees authority  for  so  doing,  also  greatly  err.  These 
charters  were  not  intended  to  convey  a  fee  simple  to 
the  grantees,  but  only  to  secure  to  them  pre-emption 
rights  of  purchase  from  the  Indians.  The  charters 
simply  intended  this :  We  pledge  the  royal  faith  that 
no  other  Europeans  shall  intrude  upon  the  lands 
granted,  but  you  must  settle  your  own  terms  with  the 
Indians.  And  the  same  thing  has  run  down  through 
grants  and  treaties  to  the  present  day.  It  is  only  ac- 
cording to  our  conception  of  the  value  of  lands,  that 
the  poor  red  men  experienced  such  hard  bargains. 
But  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  construction 
of  their  social  economy  was  essentially  different  from 
ours.  They  were  not  an  agricultural  nor  a  pastoral 
people.  They  did  not,  to  any  extent,  till  the  soil,  and 
had  no  conception  of  its  value  growing  out  of  the 


OBADTAH   TURNER.  93 

necessities  and  conveniences  of  civilized  life.  "  Black 
Will's  "  sale  of  Nahant  to  Mr.  Dexter  for  a  suit  of  clothes 
and  a  jewsharp,  though  a  good  bargain  for  the  pur- 
chaser, may  also  have  been  a  good  one  for  the  vender. 
Nahant  was  worth  little  as  a  hunting  ground,  and  noth- 
ing for  cultivation.  And  there  was  not  much  activity 
in  the  market  for  wigwam  lots. 

The  Indians  understood,  as  far  as  they  could  be 
made  to  understand  a  thing  so  entirely  beyond  their 
accustomed  mode  of  viewing  matters,  what  rights 
were  acknowledged  to  be  theirs.  And  though  they 
would  dispose  of  land  which  to  a  European  would  be 
of  very  great  value  under  the  operation  of  the  arts 
and  employments  of  civilized  life,  for  a  hatchet  or  a 
shirt,  they  might  have  received  a  fair  equivalent. 
Farms  and  mill  privileges  were  to  them  of  no  account. 

And  then  again  so  loose  were  they  in  the  matter  of 
titles  that  it  was  often  difficult  to  determine  what  indi- 
viduals were  proprietors.  Rev.  Mr  Higginson,  the 
first  minister  at  Salem,  in  a  letter  dated  in  1629,  states 
these  facts,  which  are  well  worthy  of  consideration : 
"  The  Indians  are  not  able  to  make  use  of  the  one 
fourth  part  of  the  land ;  neither  have  they  any  settled 
places,  as  towns,  to  dwell  in,  nor  any  grounds  as  they 
challenge  for  their  own  possession,  but  change  their 
habitation  from  place  to  place."  And  this  confirms  cer- 
tain statements  of  Mr.  Turner. 

Notwithstanding  the  many  villainous  frauds  practised 
upon  them  by  individual  settlers  it  is  yet  undeniable 
that  the  colonial  governments  without  perhaps  an  ex- 
ception, endeavored  to  enforce  the  strictest  honesty 
of  dealing  in  the  purchase  of  Indian  titles.  But  the 
cupidity  that  characterized  many  of  the  first  settlers, 
found  means  to  circumvent  the  wholesome  laws. 


94  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

It  has  been  said  that  New  Jersey  is  the  only  state 
in  the  old  Union  in  which  every  foot  of  land  was  ob- 
tained by  honorable  purchase.  This  may  be  so.  The 
land  of  the  puritan  pilgrims,  the  territory  of  the  peace- 
ful Penn,  the  rich  domains  of  New  York,  Virginia  and 
Carolina  were  all  tainted  by  glaring  examples  of  injus- 
tice. 

To  the  honor  of  the  Dutch  settlers,  however,  it  may 
be  remarked  that  they  appear  generally  to  have  pur- 
sued an  honest  course,  extinguishing  the  Indian  titles 
by  fair  purchase.  And  the  few  Swedes  and  other  col- 
onists from  the  north  of  Europe  seem  to  have  acted  in 
like  manner.  The  possession  of  power  is  apt  to  beget 
arrogance,  which,  in  its  turn,  becomes  the  parent  of 
much  that  is  unrighteous ;  and  hence  it  would  be  un- 
safe to  assume  that  had  these  been  as  powerful  as  the 
English,  they  would  have  been  less  rapacious.  To 
judge  of  the  Dutch  by  their  conduct  in  the  East  Indies 
we  certainly  should  not  form  a  very  favorable  opinion 
of  them. 

It  may  be  asked  in  regard  to  the  royal  charters 
themselves,  What  right  had  the  European  governments 
to  assume  the  power  of  thus  granting?  The  reply  is, 
that  the  claim  to  American  territory  was  founded  on 
discovery  —  that  is,  the  subject  who  discovered  this  or 
that  portion  of  the  continent,  and  planted  his  national 
flag  upon  it,  claimed  it,  by  that  act,  as  rightfully  be- 
longing to  his  sovereign,  against  all  other  estabhshed 
powers.  This  was  sanctioned  by  the  comity  of  nations. 
England,  France,  Holland  and  Spain,  the  leading  powers 
of  that  period  were  governed  by  this  doctrine.  But 
as  regarded  the  natives  of  the  countries  discovered, 
it  was  not  denied,  in  theory  at  least,  that  the  fee  sim- 
ple was  in  them.   In  other  words,  the  territory  belonged 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  95 

to  the  discoverei-R  against  all  the  world  excepting 
the  natives.  Good  faith  was  generally  preserved  among 
the  nations  on  this  point.  Tlie  occasional  outbreaks 
between  the  English  and  Dutch  and  in  later  years  be- 
tween the  English  and  French  settlers,  we  find  gener- 
ally arose  from  disputes  aboot  priority  of  discovery  or 
from  difficulties  agitating  the  parent  countries. 

The  consideratiiins  growing  out  of  the  course  thus 
assumed  by  the  civilized  nations  are  of  great  import- 
ance and  interest.  The  native  tribes  were  unable  forc- 
ibly to  dislodge  the  settlers  and  by  a  kind  of  moral 
pressure  seemed  doomed  rapidly  to  disappear  before 
them.  And  many  a  pious  mind  has  perceived,  in  the 
whole  course  of  events,  a  special  interposition,  for  the 
benefit  of  God's  people,  similar  to  instances  recorded 
in  the  sacred  volume. 

And,  taking  a  broad  view  of  the  question,  What 
amount  of  moral  wrong  do  we  find  involved?  Divest- 
ing the  subject  of  all  false  drapery,  what  !s  the  verdict 
of  those  elevated  conceptions  which  can  at  one  view 
embrace  the  welfare  of  the  whole  human  family?  Man 
is  commanded  to  subdue  the  soil.  The  Indians  would 
not  fulfil  this  command.  They  would  not  till  the  soil. 
They  would  not  sultdue  the  wilderness.  It  was  incon- 
sistent with  the  progress  of  onr  species  as  well  as  with 
the  command  of  the  Creator,  that  so  immense  and  fair 
a  portion  of  the  earth  should  be  suffered  to  remain  a 
wilderness,  yielding  comparatively  nothing  fortlie  sus- 
tenance of  man.  Inasmuch  as  the  Indians  would  not 
labor  upon  the  ground  was  it  not  fitting  that  those 
who  would,  should  become  its  possessors?  The  whole 
earth  was  given  as  the  vineyard  in  which  the  great 
family  of  man  was  to  toil  for  sustenance,  and  no  nation, 
no  tribe,  no  individual  has  a  right  to  hold  any  portion 


96  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

in  an  uncultivated  state  when  what  it  would  produce 
is  required  for  the  support  of  others. 

And  does  it  not  seem  that  the  change  which  a  couple 
of  centuries  has  wrought  in  this  fair  portion  of  the 
heritage,  is  in  accordance  with  the  order  of  nature,  the 
progress  of  our  species? 

What  was  the  aspect  of  our  country  at  the  time  of 
its  discovery  by  Europeans  ?  What  but  that  of  a  wil- 
derness, dark  and  wild,  with  a  few  thousands  of  the 
great  family  of  man  scattered  sparsely  over  it;  and 
they,  degraded  and  savage,  warring  upon  each  other 
and  delighting  in  the  grossest  occupations  of  existence; 
possessing  scarcely  any  knowledge  of  the  useful  arts 
or  conception  of  the  higher  duties  and  enjoyments  of 
life.  Science  had  not  shed  its  vivifying  rays  upon  them, 
expanding  their  intellects  and  refining  their  tastes. 
Nor  had  a  rational  religion  elevated  their  minds  and 
purified  their  hearts. 

What  now  is  the  aspect  of  the  land?  What  but  as 
fair  as  any  on  which  the  sun  shines.  Thirty  millions 
of  the  human  family  are  sustained  in  plenty  and  happi- 
ness within  its  borders.  The  wilderness  has  been  sub- 
dued and  the  earth  made  to  yield  a  mighty  increase. 
And  starving  thousands  of  the  old  world  have  been 
grateful  recipients  of  bounty  bestowed  from  our  sur- 
plus agricultural  products.  It  was  by  the  ordering  of 
Divine  Providence,  and  for  the  benefit  of  the  human 
race  that  in  this  goodly  portion  of  the  great  vineyard, 
the  indolent  and  unprofitable  should  give  place  to  more 
faithful  laborers. 

Another  thing  should  be  borne  in  mind  by  those  who 
entertain  so  much  bitterness  towards  the  settlers  re- 
garding the  extinguishment  of  Indian  titles.  The 
Indians  themselves  always  admitted  that  the  land  was 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  97 

not  originally  theirs,  and  that  their  forefathers  took 
forcible  possession,  driving  those  whom  they  found 
here  through  a  path  of  blood  into  the  sea.  They 
boasted  of  this  fancied  bravery  of  their  ancestors  in 
the  face  of  the  whites,  menacingly  assuring  them  that 
they  Avould  be  similarly  dealt  with  as  soon  as  the  red 
warriors  could  be  assembled  in  sufficient  numbers. 
Thus  exhibiting  a  title  resting  on  a  similar  foundation 
to  that  of  the  New  Zealand  chief,  who  claimed  certain 
lands  because  he  had  eaten  the  former  owner.  And 
we  leave  this  point  with  the  simple  remark  that  if  it 
can  ever  be  justifiable  to  steal  from  a  thief,  it  seems  as 
if  the  early  settlers  might  set  up  the  plea. 

We  remarked  that  under  the  Indian  dispensation  this 
now  productive  region  supported  but  a  small  fragment 
of  the  human  family.  It  is  difficult  to  state  with  any 
degree  of  certainty,  the  amount  of  the  Indian  popula- 
tion. Their  own  assertions  could  not  be  depended  on, 
if  for  no  other  reason,  because  of  their  ignorance  of 
numbers.  In  their  limited  traffic  but  little  knowledge 
of  arithmetic  was  required.  And  it  is  a  notable  fact 
that  the  large  body  of  them  could  not  count  over 
fifteen  or  twenty.  Those  who  could  go  as  far  as  two 
hundred  were  highly  accomplished  in  the  mysteries  of 
mathematics. 

It  may  detract  something  from  what  has  been  lauded 
as  indicative  of  their  high  poetical  conceptions  and 
striking  metaphorical  mode  of  expression,  yet  it  is  no 
more  than  just  to  say,  that  their  comparing  numbers 
to  the  stars  of  heaven,  the  leaves  on  the  trees,  the 
sands  on  the  shore,  and  so  forth,  arose  from  sheer  ina- 
bility to  count.  One  whose  arithmetic  failed  him  at 
twenty  would  be  very  likely  to  designate  three  hundred 
as  equal  to  the  stars  of  heaven,  or  to  make  some  other 
E  7 


98  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

equally  poetic  and  just  comparison,  having  no  more 
conception  of  the  numerical  magnitude  of  three  hun- 
dred than  of  three  million. 

The  Powhattan  confederacy,  which  was  one  of  the 
most  powerful  in  the  territory  that  now  constitutes 
the  United  States,  embraced  thirty  three  tribes,  and 
occupied  a  large  portion  of  the  immense  Virginia  terri- 
tory lying  between  the  Blue  Ridge  and  the  sea.  Yet 
the  whole  population  seems  not  to  have  reached  ten 
thousand.  Other  portions  of  the  country  appear  to 
have  been  much  less  densely  populated.  And  it  is 
asserted  in  history  that  the  renowned  chief  whose  name 
the  confederacy  bore,  sent  messengers  to  England  for 
the  purpose  of  counting  the  people  there  ;  which  he  of 
course  would  not  have  done  had  not  the  state  of  his 
own  country  induced  him  to  believe  the  thing  possible. 
Indeed,  had  not  the  population  been  few  and  weak,  the 
settlers  would  have  been  exterminated,  notwithstand- 
ing their  big  guns  and  catechisms,  that  great  source 
of  reliance  of  which  the  good  Mr.  Higginson  was  led 
to  boast. 

In  view  of  these  remarks,  the  writer  will  not  be 
deemed  one  given  to  indiscriminate  laudation  of  the 
ancient  occupants  of  this  soil,  a  few  specimens  of 
whom  we  have  yet  lingering  among  us,  but  from  whom 
we  are  cautioned  to  form  no  judgment,  as  they  are 
degraded  by  contact  with  ourselves. 

The  romantic  efforts  of  some  to  present  the  Indians 
as  the  most  magnanimous  people  the  world  has  ever 
known,  are  unjust.  It  is  perhaps  well  that  our  minds 
are  so  constituted  as  to  revert  with  glowing  interest 
to  the  scenes  transacted  in  former  times  upon  the  soil 
we  call  our  own.  And  it  is  natural  that  those  scenes 
and  the  actors  in  them  should  be  invested  in  a  drapery 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  99 

growing  more  brilliant  and  fanciful  as  time  recedes. 
But  yet,  unless  the  historian  constantly  endeavors  to 
present  his  subject  in  the  attitude  of  nude  truthfulness 
he  betrays  his  trust.  The  Indians  should  not  be  de- 
nounced as  the  most  miserable  and  depraved  fragment 
of  the  human  family  that  ever  cumbered  the  earth. 
God  never  made  a  tribe  of  our  species  in  which  he 
did  not  implant  conceptions  of  truth  and  duty,  and  in 
which  there  were  not  individuals  whose  conduct  was 
guided  by  lofty  principles. 

In  reverting  to  the  history  of  the  red  men  we  must 
not  conclude  that  they  all  possessed  that  magnanimity 
of  character  of  which  we  have  some  bright  examples. 
That  would  be  as  unjust  as  it  would  be  for  those  in 
ages  to  come,  when  our  own  nation  has  become  ex- 
tinct, to  conclude  that  we  were  all  Washingtons  and 
Franklins.  Neither  must  we  conclude  that  they  were 
all  treacherous  and  blood  thirsty  as  we  find  so  many 
fatal  assurances  was  the  case  with  far  too  many.  They 
were  human  beings,  with  passions  like  our  own,  and 
with  undisciplined  intellects  and  undeveloped  moral 
attributes  were  chiefly  governed  by  the  lower  propen- 
sities of  our  common  nature.  But  sometimes  the 
briglrt  rays  of  exalted  virtue  and  intellectual  vigor 
burst  through  every  cloud,  shining  forth  with  un- 
quenchable lustre.  As  warm  a  heart  has  beat  beneath 
the  Indian  blanket  as  beneath  the  vesture  of  purple 
and  fine  linen.  As  sweet  a  lullaby  has  been  sung  over 
the  papoose  as  he  was  rolled  in  his  bear  skin,  as  was 
ever  sung  over  the  cradled  offspring  of  our  own 
fathers. 

But  these  virtues  spring  from  the  instincts  of  nature. 
And  if  their  instincts  taught  them  to  love  their  friends 
they  also  taught  them  to  hate  their  enemies.      And 


100  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

more  appalling,  bloody,  and  in  every  way  fiendish 
scenes  were  never  enacted  on  earth  than  Avere  some 
of  those  in  which  these  children  of  nature  displayed 
their  fealty  to  the  great  master  of  evil.  We  speak  of 
them  as  the  children  of  nature,  as  if  that  were  an  argu- 
ment in  favor  of  their  virtue,  not  realizing  that  to 
many  minds  we  thus  furnish  the  strongest  argument 
against  them.  Human  nature  is  corrupt,  and,  as  none 
will  dispute,  prone  to  evil  as  are  the  sparks  to  fly 
upward. 

From  the  first  moment  that  the  whites  set  foot  upon 
this  soil  the  Indian  nations  began  rapidly  to  decay. 
There  is  now  but  a  small  remnant  left.  And  ere  long 
they  will  have  become  entirely  extinct.  The  fire  of 
the  wigwam  will  have  gone  out  and  the  ploughshare 
will  have  broken  up  the  graves  of  their  fathers. 

It  is  sad  to  contemplate  the  utter  destruction  of  a 
people.  Reflections,  however,  press  upon  the  mind, 
not  unworthy  of  being  entertained.  A  little  more  than 
two  centuries  ago  this  whole  country  was  occupied  by 
a  people  as  different  from  ourselves  as  one  nation  can 
well  be  from  another.  But  the  red  men  have  passed 
away.  And  so  have  the  race  who  preceded  them. 
And  must  not  we,  in  the  progress  of  coming  centuries 
also  give  place  to  another  people  ?  And  of  what  gene- 
ration of  our  children  will  be  the  last,  the  forlorn  wan- 
derers, who  will  in  sadness  turn  from  these  shores  be- 
holding the  land  in  possession  of  strangers  ?  Vain- 
glorious people  !     Why  should  we  boast? 

So  pass  away,  in  mysterious  procession,  one  nation 
and  kindred  after  another.  In  the  striking  words  of 
Ossian :    "  The   chiefs   of   other    times    are    departed. 

They  have  gone  without  their  fame The  people 

are  like  the  waves  of  the  ocean :  like  the  leaves  of 


OBADIAH  TURNER.  101 

woody  Morven,  they  pass  away  in  the   rustling  blast, 
and  other  leaves  lift  their  green  heads  on  high." 

The  reader  may  have  been  struck  with  what  Mr. 
Turner  says,  under  date  of  1637,  regarding  certain 
wonderful  discoveries ;  particularly  the  discovery  of 
tracks  imprinted  in  the  rocks  at  Nahant.  And  there  is 
a  tradition  connected  with  these  tracks,  that  so  happily 
illustrates  several  prominent  characteristics  of  the 
times,  that  we  feel  constrained  to  introduce  it  here, 
fully  confident  that  no  intelligent  reader  can  mistake 
our  object,  whatever  views  may  be  entertained  as  to 
the  credibility  of  this  or  that  part  of  the  relation.  Le- 
gends and  traditions  are  sometimes  very  useful  as 
illustrations,  and  may  supply  what  would  otherwise  be 
wanting.  When  introduced  in  their  proper  character 
they  cannot  mislead,  though  historians  do  well  to  be 
wary  of  them. 

The  lovely  peninsula  of  Nahant  was  within  the  terri- 
torial limits  of  the  Third  Plantation.  It  has  long  been 
celebrated  as  a  watering  place.  Anciently  it  was  a 
famous  place  for  shore  fishing.  Various  kinds  of  the 
most  delicious  of  the  smaller  specimens  of  the  great 
finny  tribe  abounded  in  its  waters,  and  those  piscatory 
disciples  who  visited  its  bold  cliffs  for  purposes  of 
sport  or  profit,  met  with  a  rich  reward.  Wild  fowl, 
too,  were  taken  in  vast  quantities,  for  a  long  series  of 
years.  And  in  the  days  of  the  first  settlers  four-footed 
game  was  plenty  in  the  dense  woods  that  overspread 
the  uplands. 

No  sooner  was  the  peninsula  traversed  by  the  whites 
than  it  was  discovered  that  Nature  had  laid  it  out  as  a 
tract  of  surpassing  loveliness.  And  it  has  increased  in 
the  affections  of  the  refined  and  the  lovers  of  nature, 


102  NOTABLE   TEOrLB. 

to  this  day.  And  now,  every  watering  season,  hosts 
of  the  fairest  and  bravest  uf  the  land  assemble  there, 
to  enjoy  the  affinities  of  friendship  and  love,  to  breathe 
the  free  and  uncontaminated  air,  to  gaze  upon  the  mag- 
nificent and  beautiful  in  nature  —  and  thus  to  renovate 
the  flagging  spirits  and  restore  declining  health. 

To  follow  the  traditionary  accounts,  we  should  say 
that  it  was  near  the  eastern  point,  on  an  extension  of 
ledge  that  now  projects  somewhat  into  the  sea,  that 
the  aforesaid  tracks  were  to  be  seen.  It  is  asserted 
that  they  were  clearly  defined,  and  resembled,  in  a 
•remarkable  degree,  the  impressions  of  cloven  feet. 
There  were  perhaps  twenty  of  them,  the  faintest  being- 
more  perfect  than  are  most  of  the  specimens  of  foot- 
prints in  rock  preserved  in  geological  cabinets.  They 
were  all  of  about  the  same  size,  and  one  might  have 
imagined  them  to  have  been  made  by  an  enormous  ox, 
to  use  Mr.  Turner's  comparison,  had  such  an  animal 
been  wandering  around  there  while  the  rocks  were  in 
an  unhardened  state. 

These  appearances  excited  much  alarm  at  one  period, 
and  were  frequently  visited  by  the  curious,  as  is  said. 
But  at  what  period  they  were  lost  sight  of,  cannot  now 
be  determined.  By  the  action  of  the  waves  they  ;iiay 
have  been  gradually  worn  away,  or  the  shore  may  have 
so  changed  as  to  leave  them  in  deep  water.  Taking  their 
existence  for  granted,  we  cannot  wonder  that  in  the 
old  colony  times  they  should  have  been  the  occasion 
of  much  perplexity  and  apprehension.  It  is  said  that 
various  theories  were  proposed  by  the  learned  of  the 
times  regarding  their  origin,  mostly  having  reference 
to  the  attempts  of  the  evil  one  to  plague  the  settlers. 

In  1641,  as  appears  by  an  account  given  by  Mr.  Tur- 
ner, under  that  date,  a  wonderful  serpent  was  declared 


OBADIAH   TURNER,  103 

to  have  appeared  in  the  vicinity.  And  certain  Indian 
traditions  regarding  a  marine  monster  are  also  alluded 
to.  These,  taken  together,  may  account  for  tlie  origin 
of  the  stories  prevalent  at  this  day  about  the  venerable 
Sea-serpent,  who  is  so  accommodating  as  to  make  his 
appearance  off  Nahant,  just  at  the  time  when  attrac- 
tions for  summer  visitors  are  most  needed.  And  it  is 
extremely  natural  that  these  same  accounts  should 
have  led  our  forefathers  to  settle  down  in  the  belief 
that  the  veritable  old  Serpent  who  beguiled  our  great 
mother,  had,  for  some  infernal  purpose,  best  known  to 
himself,  thought  proper  to  appear  here  in  his  most  nat- 
ural guise,  ready,  of  course,  to  assume  any  other  that 
exigencies  might  require.  And  it  is  not  to  be  wonder- 
ed at  that  they  should  have  been  very  much  distressed 
under  this  conclusion.  And  a  pious  old  dame  lately 
declared  to  us  that  she  should  not  be  surprised,  if  after 
all,  it  turned  out  that  the  Sea-serpent  was  the  Devil,  it 
being  so  undeniable  that  he  is  always  around  here,  in 
some  shape.  The  last  mournful  truth  stopped  our 
mouth. 

The  first  discover}^  of  these  extraordinar}'  footprints, 
by  the  whites,  from  all  that  we  can  gather  seems  to 
have  been  in  this  wise  :  Abel  Ballard,  a  half  blacksmith, 
half  fisherman  and  half  sportsman,  as  well  as  half  drunk- 
ard—  if  there  is  any  halfway  in  drunkenness  —  lazy, 
ignorant  and  reckless,  took  it  into  his  head  to  visit  Egg 
Rock,  alone,  one  afternoon.  In  the  boat  with  him  he 
took  his  gun,  fishing  line,  rum  keg,  and  sundry  other 
things  necessary  for  a  right  jolly  time.  The  same  dif- 
ficulties that  noAv  attend  a  landing  on  that  famous  rock 
then  existed.  The  surf  ran  high  at  the  point  of  de- 
barkation, on  the  afternoon  in  question.  Considering 
this,  and  the  fact  that  the  rock  weed  is  so  slippery  that 


104  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

even  well-balunced  steps  are  not  always  sure,  it  was 
very  fortunate  that  he  was  able  to  reach  safe  footing, 
with  no  further  disaster  than  the  loss  of  his  pipe  and 
the  knocking  out  of  one  tooth  by  a  slip,  as  he  jumped 
from  the  boat. 

Abel  was  not  long  in  catching  a  great  many  fish  and 
finding  a  large  number  of  birds'  eggs.  In  a  grove 
which  then  had  possession  of  the  soil  near  the  summit, 
a  short  distance  southward  from  where  the  light  house 
now  stands,  he  built  a  fire  and  cooked  his  fish  and 
eggs,  which,  with  the  stores  he  had  brought,  furnished 
a  very  good  meal. 

After  the  feast,  Abel  concluded  to  take  a  little  rest 
before  pushing  off  for  home.  Being  undisturbed  ho 
dozed  away  for  an  hour  or  two ;  when,  suddenly  wak- 
ing, he  found  that  it  was  growing  dark.  Springing 
up,  and  rubbing  his  eyes  for  a  clear  view,  he  perceived 
that  a  very  threatening  cloud  was  moving  rapidly  up 
from  the  west.  And  he  heard  the  thunder  muttering 
away  among  the  distant  hills.  No  time  was  to  be  lost, 
for  the  storm  would  soon  break  in  fury.  Hastily  gath- 
ering up  his  chattels  and  throwing  them  into  the  boat, 
he  pushed  oiF.  But  before  rowing  half  a  dozen  rods, 
he  stooped  down  to  take  a  drop  of  inspiration  from  his 
keg,  when  lo,  that  dear  companion  was  missing.  In- 
stinctively, as  it  were,  the  prow^  of  the  boat  whirled 
back  toward  the  rock,  and  with  all  speed  he  landed 
and  hastened  to  the  scene  of  his  banquetting.  There 
he  soon  spied  the  blessed  keg  meekly  reposing  on  a 
stump  beside  the  rocky  protuberance  that  had  fur- 
nished him  with  the  conveniences  of  a  table. 

Seizing  the  keg,  Abel  ran  back  to  the  boat  and 
pushed  off  again,  just  as  an  ominous  clap  of  thunder 
shook  the  very  foundations  of  the  cliff.     He  instantly 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  105 

perceived  that  it  would  be  imprudent  to  attempt  to 
gain  the  main  hind.  And  so,  without  wasting  time  to 
count  chances,  he  at  once  directed  his  course  towards 
Nahant,  the  nearest  point  of  which  was  something 
within  a  mile.  Lustily  bending  to  his  oars  and  re- 
ceiving the  opportune  aid  of  a  benevolent  wave,  ho 
succeeded  in  beaching  his  boat  and  attaining  the  upland 
just  before  the  fury  of  the  storm  broke  upon  him. 

About  where  the  large  Hotel  once  stood  there  was 
a  thick  wood,  in  which  was  a  rough  little  shanty  built 
by  the  proprietors  of  the  land  for  the  convenience  of 
those  who  might  be  overtaken  by  storms  or  other 
perils  while  working  there.  Into  this  structure  Abel 
ran,  almost  out  of  breath  and  threw  himself  down,  faint- 
ing with  fatigue  and  fright.  Night  drew  on,  and  he 
was  soon  in  a  disturbed  sleep.  How  long  he  remained 
so,  he  was  never  able  to  tell.  But  at,  as  he  reckoned, 
about  midnight,  he  was  aroused  by  a  terrific  crash, 
occasioned  as  he  afterwards  ascertained  by  the  lightning 
striking  Pulpit  Rock  and  demolishing  a  section  of  its 
base.  Terrified  beyond  measure,  he  was  just  endeavor- 
ing to  rise,  when,  by  the  almost  continuous  lightning 
there  was  revealed  to  him,  stalking  in  at  the  door,  a 
strange,  hairy  object  of  about  the  size  of  a  stout  man. 
Erect,  and  with  a  steady  step  he  came  and  stood  over 
the  spot  where  Abel  lay,  now  speechless  with  fear. 

Eyeing  the  prostrate  settler  for  a  moment,  the  mon- 
ster broke  out  into  a  broad  laugh,  opening  the  great 
mouth  of  his  dog-like  head  and  shooting  out  his  huge 
tongue  in  the  strangest  manner.  Presently  he  began 
to  exercise  himself  as  if  playing  on  a  fiddle.  And  then 
he  began  to  dance  in  the  most  fantastic  style.  Sud- 
denly stopping,  in  a  commanding  voice  he  bade  Abel 
arise  and  dance  too,  declaring  that  he  was  fiddling  for 
E* 


106  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

him,  and  that  it  would  be  good  for  him  to  take  a  meriy 
round. 

But  Abel  did  not  come  to  time.  He  probably  had 
too  much  discretion  to  trust  to  his  legs,  or  was  too 
much  frightened.  So  the  graceful  visitor  dance<] 
around  a  while  longer,  his  red  tongue  leering  out  at 
the  corner  of  his  mouth,  at  an  enormous  length,  anil  a 
blue  flame  occasionally  shooting  from  his  nostrils,  diver- 
sified, as  he  now  and  then  sneezed,  which  he  seemed 
to  take  a  mischievous  pleasure  in  doing,  by  a  sort  of 
miniature  volcanic  explosion. 

At  length  he  stopped,  and  again  standing  over  Abel, 
bade  him  arise  and  dance,  calling  him  a  jolly  old  toper, 
and  saying  that  he  would  have  a  jig  with  liim.  Pres- 
ently, however,  assuming  a  serious  air,  he  declared  that 
he  was  as  dry  as  a  fish  and  must  have  some  good  drink; 
adding  that  if  Abel  did  not  tell  him  where  his  keg  was, 
he  would  give  him  a  kick  that  would  send  him  back  to 
Egg  Rock,  and  thence,  by  a  bounce,  to  the  Swampscot 
shore.  He  raised  his  foot  as  if  to  bestov,'  the  compli- 
ment, whatever  might  be  the  reply.  And  it  was  then 
that  Abel  perceived  that  his  tormentor  had  a  huge 
cloven  foot ;  a  discovery  that  did  not  add  much  to  his 
comfort. 

In  the  hope,  however,  of  terminating  the  unpleasant 
conference,  Abel's  courage  so  far  revived  as  to  enable 
him  to  articulate,  that  the  precious  object  of  his  inquiry 
was  in  the  boat.  At  this,  with  a  laugh  that  almost 
shook  the  door  of  the  shanty  from  its  leather  hinges, 
the  intruding  monster  frisked  out,  leaving  a  pow- 
erful brimstone  smell.  And  Abel  sank  away,  whether 
in  sleep  or  some  other  condition  he  could  not  after- 
wards determine,  but  entirely  oblivious  of  what  next 
took  place  around  him. 


OBADIAH  TURNER.  107 

When  Abel  aroused  and  opened  his  eyes,  a  bright 
sun  was  just  emerging  from  the  ocean.  His  first  object 
was  to  endeavor  to  bring  his  mind  into  working  order 
by  the  restorative  that  he  had  not  forgotten  was  left 
in  the  boat.  Hastening  to  the  cove,  his  mind  still 
roiled  and  laboring,  he  with  horror  perceived  that 
some  one  had  taken  his  boat  by  main  strength,  carried 
it  several  rods,  and  deposited  it  on  a  sort  of  rocky 
shelf,  entirely  out  of  his  reach.  And  that  mischievous 
some  one,  he  had  not  a  doubt,  was  the  Devil. 

The  boat  was  bottom  up  and  much  damaged.  And 
every  thing  that  he  had  left  on  board  was  gone.  Can 
there  be  any  wonder  at  his  astonishment  and  fear? 
With  hair  on  end  and  stiffened  jaws  he  stood  gazing 
around.  Then  happening  to  look  down  he  beheld  near 
his  feet,  imprinted  in  the  solid  rock,  divers  marks  of 
cloven  feet.  He  had  no  doubt  now,  if  he  had  before, 
of  the  character  of  his  midnight  visitor.  No  one  but 
the  Devil  could  leave  such  footprints. 

Tliis  discovery,  instead  of  actually  prostrating  Abel, 
as  it  would  have  affected  many  others,  seemed  to  impart 
to  him  additional  powers  of  locomotion.  And  uttering 
one  yell,  that  might  have  been  heard  at  Deer  Island, 
had  there  been  any  one  there  with  ears,  he  started  at 
the  very  top  of  his  speed  to  the  cartway  that  led 
through  the  woods  to  the  beaches.  Nor  did  he  stop 
till  he  had  run  more  than  a  mile,  losing  his  hat  and  one 
shoe  by  the  way.  He  now  met  a  teamster  going  down 
to  the  shore  for  seaweed.  But  the  man  was  disposed 
to  give  him  a  wide  berth,  he  acted  so  wildly  and  ap- 
peared in  such  questionable  guise.  Abel  was,  however, 
presently  recognised,  and  in  as  connected  a  manner  as 
he  could,  undertook  to  relate  what  had  happened. 

The  teamster  listened  patiently  to  Abel's  account. 


108  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

But  the  latter  was  very  much  surprised,  when  he  had 
finished,  to  hear  the  cool  remark,  that  though  he  had 
unquestionably  seen  a  devil,  yet  it  was  a  devil  of  his 
own  make ;  that  the  evil  spirit  was  in  his  own  brain 
and  no  where  else  ;  and  that  he  got  there  out  of  the 
rum  keg.  And  the  benevolent  man  was  particular  to 
inform  Abel  that  more  devils  come  from  rum  kegs  than 
from  brimstone  beds ;  at  the  same  time  expressing  a 
hope  that  as  the  one  in  question  had  now  sailed  away 
in  the  old  keg  he  would  not  get  a  new  keg  to  breed 
more.  He  further  admonished  him  that  a  man's  head 
was  too  good  a  place  to  be  occupied  as  a  dancing  room 
for  such  evil  spirits  ;  and  then,  with  the  remark  that 
all  would  go  well,  if  he  took  heed  to  these  warnings, 
without  the  least  concern  drove  on.  Abel  thought  him 
very  cool;  but  before  he  had  a  reply  digested  and 
ready  for  utterance,  the  team  was  on  the  other  slope  of 
the  hill. 

The  conviction  remained  immovable  in  Abel's  mind, 
that  the  evil  one  had  paid  him  a  visit.  And  he  con- 
ducted many  a  doubter  to  those  remarkable  footprints, 
and  pointed  to  the  rocky  shelf  whereon  his  boat  was 
laid,  in  proof.  And  he  succeeded  in  silencing  the 
doubts  of  many  a  pious  neighbor. 

If  these  wonderful  impressions  were  ever  there,  they 
were  probably  made  at  the  remote  period  in  the  Avorld's 
history  when  other  similar  impressions  were.  And  if 
still  in  existence,  it  is  not  improbable  that  at  some 
future  day  they  may  come  to  light  again.  The  place 
is  not  above  half  a  mile  from  the  summer  residence  of 
Professor  Agassiz.  So  we  may  possibly,  through  his 
talismanic  power,  some  time  or  other  learn  all  about 
them  ;  unless,  indeed,  their  distance  is  not  sufficient  to 
lend  enchantment. 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  109 

Assuming  that  the  footprints  were  there,  Abel  may, 
indeed,  have  been  the  first  white  man  who  saw  them : 
but  they  might  have  been  there  ages  before.  The 
waves,  no  doubt,  battered  his  boat  and  lodged  it  on 
the  rock  where  he  found  it.  A-nd,  finally,  the  teamster 
was  no  doubt  right  in  his  location  of  the  evil  spirit. 
Dehrium  tremens  often  furnishes  those  optics  keen  that 
enable  people  to  see  what  is  not  to  be  seen. 

Under  date  of  1657,  Mr.  Turner  makes  mention,  in 
what  seems  like  a  hurried  postscript,  of  a  harrowing 
tragedy  just  then  reported  to  have  taken  place.  And 
we  presume  that  it  was  from  the  tragic  fact,  or  from 
the  report  —  and  we  cannot  tell  from  any  thing  further 
in  the  journal  whether  or  not  it  turned  out  to  be  a 
mere  report  —  that  the  somewhat  embellished  narra- 
tive that  has  appeared  under  the  title  of  "  Stony  Brook" 
took  its  outline.  The  incidents  are  of  a  peculiarly 
touching  character,  and,  unfortunately,  too  faithful 
illustrations  of  many  occurrences  in  those  days.  By 
the  tradition,  as  it  has  come  down  the  course  of  time, 
we  learn  that  Mr.  Anderson  resided  on  what  is  now 
Boston  street,  and  was  the  father  of  an  extremely 
beautiful  daughter,  who  was  an  only  child.  They  had 
not  been  long  in  America  when  the  alleged  fital  occur- 
rence took  place.  And  before  leaving  England,  the 
young  lady  had  become  the  aflSanced  of  a  youthful 
officer  in  the  public  service,  named  Wells. 

Some  two  years  after  Mr.  Anderson  removed  hither, 
he  became  involved  in  various  speculations,  mostly 
connected  with  Indian  lands,  which  created  for  him 
not  a  few  violent  enemies.  Yet  it  is  claimed  that  he 
was  a  man  of  public  spirit  and  warm  domestic  attach- 
ments.    About  this  time,  Capt.  Wells  arrived  at  Boston, 


no  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

and  soon  found  his  way  to  the  pleasant  home  of  Mr. 
Anderson,  where  he  was  received  with  the  most  un- 
feigned affection. 

Miss  Anderson  seems  to  have  been  greatly  beloved 
by  all  about  her.  And  presently  a  pic-nic  party,  as  we 
should  call  it,  was  formed  in  honor  of  the  young  soldier 
and  his  intended.  The  place  selected  for  the  festivi- 
ties was  a  short  distance  in  the  woods,  near  the  centre 
of  what  was  afterwards  called  Hemlock  Swamp,  and 
through  which  flowed  the  little  brook,  subsequently 
so  famous  under  the  name  of  Stony  Brook.  It  was  a 
lovely  afternoon,  in  summer,  and  their  sports  were  car- 
ried forward  in  great  glee.  The  baptismal  name  of 
Miss  Anderson,  the  tradition  asserts,  was  Julia;  a  name 
not  very  common  in  those  days.  And  Julin,  on  this 
occasion,  as  might  readily  be  supposed,  was  made  pre- 
siding queen.  She  was  crowned  with  the  choicest 
wild  flowers  and  conducted  to  a  mossy  throne  erected 
on  a  fiat  rod:,  close  by  the  brook. 

Towards  evening,  as  the  joyful  party  were  still  pur- 
suing their  sports,  old  Rattlesnake,  a  Natick  Indian, 
mentioned  by  Mr.  Turner,  who  had  become  an  uncom- 
promising enemy  of  Mr.  Anderson,  suddenly  appeared 
on  the  other  side  of  the  brook,  and  by  one  of  his  ter- 
rific yells  struck  petrifying  terror  to  each  young 
heart.  Without  giving  time  for  their  recovery,  he 
hurled  his  tomahawk  at  the  head  of  Julia  and  she  fell 
dead  into  the  brook.  Capt.  Wells,  however,  soon  re- 
covered his  self-possession,  and  dashed  toward  the 
savage.  But  his  courage  only  added  another  bloody 
trophy  to  the  red  victor's  hand. 

Rattlesnake  marched  off  into  the  deep  forest,  with 
the  curling  locks  of  Julia  and  her  betrothed  dangling 
together  from  his  wampum  belt.     And  upon  the  green 


OBADIAH    TURNER.  Ill 

bank  of  the  brook,  side  by  side,  lay  the  two  cold  and 
scalpless  forms. 

The  whole  settlement  was,  of  course,  soon  in  pur- 
suit. But  we  find  no  reliable  record  of  the  result; 
nor,  indeed,  anything  more  reliable  on  the  subject  than 
the  traditionary  accounts  now  given. 

But  to  return  to  the  Subject  of  our  sketch.  The 
spirit  of  patriotism  which  Mr.  Turner  so  early  ex- 
pressed continued  to  develope  itself  in  the  community, 
and  ultimately  phiced  us  where  we  are  in  a  political 
point  of  view.  His  prophesies,  apparently  founded 
more  on  a  knowledge  of  the  workings  of  the  human 
mind  than  the  tendency  of  outward  events,  have  been 
in  many  instances  verified  to  the  letter.  And  we  think 
ourselves  fully  justified  in  all  that  we  have  said  in  his 
praise. 

That  he  experienced  the  common  vicissitudes  of  life 
it  is  needless  to  state,  for  none  are  exempt.  Prom  a 
remark  or  two  in  his  journal  we  are  led  to  think  that 
he  Avas  one  of  those  self-relying  people  who  are  slow 
to  believe  that  men  are  not  able,  in  a  general  way,  to 
shape  their  own  fortunes.  Yet  he  was  honest  and 
discriminating,  while  so  opposed  to  anytliing  like  ma- 
terialism or  fatalism.  And  his  charity  for  otliers  was 
boundless.  We  never  find  him,  like  some  of  the  proud 
worldlings  of  this  generation,  turning  upon  a  less  for- 
tunate neiglibor  and  upbraiding  him  as  tlie  producer 
of  his  own  misfortunes.  We  all  realize  the  value 
of  our  own  exertions,  and  should  also  realize  that  good 
and  ill  fortunes  are  dispensed  to  the  deserving  and 
undeserving,  by  rules  unknown  to  all  but  the  great 
Distributer  himself.  We  are  not  ignorant  of  the  ex- 
pressive lines  of  Goldsmith,  so  often  quoted  on  this 


112  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

point.  But  there  is  more  sweetness  in  his  poetry  than 
truth  in  his  philosophy.  We  are  all  on  the  great  Sea 
of  Life,  subject  to  its  winds  and  storms.  And  it  is  as 
unreasonable  for  one  to  declare  that  the  course  of 
each  is  in  his  own  keeping  as  to  declare  that  the  ships 
upon  the  ocean  can  hold  their  Avay  in  spite  of  wind 
and  storm.  Yet,  as  it  is  unbecoming  in  the  mariner  to 
fold  his  arms  and  indolently  yield  to  fate,  so  it  is  unbe- 
coming in  those  on  the  stormy  voyage  of  life  to  spare 
exertion  to  improve  their  condition. 

As  before  observed,  Mr.  Turner  was  quite  aged 
when  he  escaped  from  this  world  of  tribulation  and 
toil.  His  funeral  was  attended  by  a  very  large  con- 
course. Much  wine  and  cider  were  disposed  of  on 
the  occasion ;  but  no  stronger  drink  was  provided,  in 
obedience  to  his  dying  injunction.  His  remains  were 
interred  in  what  we  now  call  the  Old  Burying  Ground. 
It  was  not  then  so  generally  the  practice,  as  now,  to 
have  monuments  erected  over  the  dead.  Whether  a 
stone  ever  marked  his  resting  place  we  know  not  j  but 
if  there  was  one,  it  has  long  since  disappeared. 

He  laid  down  trusting  in  a  merciful  Redeemer,  and, 
we  doubt  not,  will  receive  the  recompense  of  a  good 
and  faithful  servant.  And  it  is  fortunate  that  one  pos- 
sessing so  honest,  genial  and  unprejudiced  a  mind, 
should  have  left  such  a  record  as  he  has.  He  seems 
to  have  extenuated  nothing,  and  he  surely  set  down 
nothing  in  malice. 

It  is  by  no  means  difficult  for  the  most  ignorant  and 
dull  to  discover  faults  in  others ;  and  the  censorious 
may  never  be  at  a  loss  for  opportunities  to  reprehend. 
But  it  is  a  recognized  truth  that  very  few  are  suffi- 
ciently wise  to  discreetly  praise ;  and  it  is  among 
those  few  that  Mr.  Turner  is  entitled  to  be  ranked. 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  113 

He  was  not  censorious,  nor  was  he  inclined  to  indis- 
criminate laudation. 

Some  people  are  naturally  of  such  crooked  growth 
that  it  is  utterly  impossible  for  them  to  be  straight 
with  any  one.  In  thought  they  can  dwell  only  upon 
the  evil  and  the  dark ;  in  speech  can  only  magnify  the 
blemishes  of  their  neighbors  ;  are  never  communicative 
excepting  in  the  way  of  fault-finding;  are  full  of  sus- 
picions and  insinuations ;  and  are  prodigal  of  dolorous 
"  buts."  Happily,  however,  there  are  others  of  oppo- 
site character;  those  who  are  forward  to  think  and 
speak  of  the  good  qualities  of  those  around  them ;  to 
find  comfort  in  every  vicissitude.  The  one  class  wail 
along  the  journey  of  life  always  begirt  with  clouds  ;  the 
other  rejoice  along  a  way  of  sunshine.  And  it  was  in  the 
great  procession  of  the  latter,  which  has  been  for  ages 
filing  heavenward,  that  Obadiah  Turner  passed  away. 

In  perusing  a  vohime  on  the  plan  of  the  present,  it 
is  convenient  to  keep  in  mind  a  variety  of  the  com- 
mon facts  of  history.  And  hence,  in  these  earlier  pages, 
we  have  felt  the  propriety  of  recalling  some  things  that 
might  to  the  intelligent  reader  at  first  appear  imper- 
tinent. To  some  extent  we  have  been  compelled  to 
make  our  pages  thus  far  rather  initiatory,  though  we 
trust  they  have  not  proved  barren  of  interest.  But 
an  unincumbered  field  for  the  display  of  our  Jewels 
will  presently  be  attained. 

We  are  gratified  in  having  been  able  to  introduce  Mr. 
Turner  and  Mr.  Hart.  Historians  have  generally  over- 
looked them.  But  the  former,  especially,  would  have 
become  conspicuous  generations  ago,  had  not  his  inval- 
uable journal  remained  sleeping  in  a  garret,  embalmed 
in  catnip,  and  watched  over  by  surly  spiders.     And  Mr. 

8 


114  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

Hart,  too,  through  the  favorable  notices  of  him,  would 
have  become  a  historical  hero. 

As  to  Mr.  Turner,  he  seems  to  have  been  a  man  of 
peculiarly  quiet  habits,  and  averse  to  having  his  name 
blazoned.  We  do  not  even  find,  on  examining  the 
Colony  Records,  at  what  time  he  took  the  freeman's 
oath.  And  it  is  possible  that  he  did  not  take  it  at  all, 
for  down  to  1664  no  person  could  take  it  unless  he 
were  ^'  a  member  in  good  standing  of  some  congrega- 
tional church."  And  there  is  some  doubt  about  his 
having  been  a  decided  congregationalist.  Many  well 
disposed  persons,  too,  were  prejudiced  against  taking 
the  oath.  And  he  might  have  been  one  of  them.  Ho 
was  evidently  no  office  seeker  or  political  ranter,  and 
many  of  the  privileges  secured  by  the  oath  were  not 
such  as  his  habits  would  naturally  have  led  him  to 
covet.  Indeed,  we  cannot  find,  by  the  Colony  Rec- 
ords, that  even  Thomas  Newhall  and  Thomas  Dexter, 
two  others  of  the  most  respectable  and  enterprising 
settlers  of  the  Third  Plantation,  and  of  whom  biograph- 
ical sketches  will  appear  on  subsequent  pages,  ever 
took  the  oath.  Mr.  Newhall  was  the  father  of  the 
present  great  Newhall  family  of  New  England,  and 
Mr.  Dexter  was  the  progenitor  of  the  illustrious  Lord 
Timothy,  as  well  as  other  notables.  It  is  barely  possi- 
ble, however,  that  the  whole  four  —  Mr.  Hart,  Mr. 
Turner,  Mr.  Newhall  and  Mr.  Dexter — may  have  taken 
the  oath  at  the  Quarterly  Court,  though  we  do  not 
think  they  Avould  have  descended  to  an  inferior  tribunal 
while  their  neighbors  appeared  boldly  at  the  bar  of 
the  Great  and  General  Court. 

In  1638  the  town  lands  were  divided  and  a  record 
made  of  the  amount  apportioned  to  the  different  inhab- 
itants.    But  unfortunately  the  record  has  been  lost; 


OBADIAH   TURNER.  115 

though  a  copy  of  some  three  pages  is  extant.  We  do 
not,  however,  find  in  this  remnant  of  that  important 
record,  the  name  either  of  Mr.  Hart  or  Mr.  Turner,  and 
hence  are  unable  to  determine  with  what  number  of 
wild  acres  they  became  encumbered. 

And  now,  in  closing,  it  may  not  be  inappropriate  to 
recall  to  the  reader  a  fact  or  two  regarding  the  good 
old  way  of  manufacturing  Freemen.  It  was  under  the 
first  Charter,  or  down  to  about  the  year  1689,  that  the 
custom  of  qualifying  individuals  as  freemen,  prevailed. 
We  find  little  or  nothing  about  it  after  the  time  when 
the  rampant  colonists  seized  Sir  Edmond  Andros,  that 
popular  uprising  seeming  to  be  under  the  dawning  of  a 
new  political  light. 

Down  to  1664,  as  just  said,  no  person  could  take 
the  freeman's  oath,  unless  he  were  "  a  member  in  good 
standing  of  some  congregational  church."  But  during 
that  year  a  royal  order  allowed  such  residents  to  be 
admitted  as  produced  certificates  that  thoy  were  of 
good  moral  character,  and  sound  in  doctrine,  signed 
by  some  clergyman  in  regular  standing  to  whom  they 
were  well  known.  By  the  oath  they  bound  themselves 
to  be  faithful  subjects  to  the  Commonwealth  —  to 
yield  assistance  and  support  thereto  by  person  and  es- 
tate —  to  endeavor  to  maintain  all  the  liberties  thereof 
—  to  submit  to  its  wholesome  laws  and  orders  —  to 
avoid  all  plots  and  evil  practices  against  it  —  to  give 
votes  and  suff"rages  in  good  faith  and  under  a  consci- 
entious endeavor  to  promote  the  public  weal  —  doing 
all  "  without  respect  of  persons  or  favor  of  any  man." 
And  a  variety  of  other  things  which  the  good  citizen 
of  this  day  endeavors  to  do,  without  taking  an  oath. 

Freemen  alone  had  the  right  to  vote  for  rulers  or 
hold  offices.     But  these  were  rights  not  so  much  es- 


116  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

teemed  then  as  now ;  perhaps  because  the  emoluments 
were  not  so  great.  And  it  must  not  be  imagined  that 
people  were  then  so  enlightened  in  these  matters  as 
now.  With  us  it  would  be  rank  political  heresy  to  say 
that  a  right  to  vote  were  not  a  most  precious  right. 
And  as  to  office,  it  would  be  still  ranker  heresy  to 
deny  the  right  to  scramble  for  that.  Not  so  in  those 
times  of  ignorance  ;  and  hence  we  find  that  many 
prominent  individuals  were  not  freemen.  Those  who 
were  not  freemen  were  termed  residents.  And  all  of 
these,  who  were  twenty  years  and  upwards  of  age,  and 
who  had  resided  in  a  place  six  months,  were  required 
to  take  an  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  government. 

The  whole  body  of  freemen  were  required  to  meet 
at  Boston,  annually,  and  in  a  General  Court  of  Elec- 
tions, to  choose  a  Governor,  Lieut.  Governor  and  other 
magistrates.  And  this  practice  was  continued  till 
about  the  year  1634,  when  the  greatness  of  numbers 
rendered  it  inconvenient.  It  was  then  required  that 
the  freemen  should  assemble  in  their  several  towns  for 
the  purpose  of  voting.  And  so  commenced  that  time- 
honored  Yankee  institution,  the  annual  Town  Meeting 
for  the  choice  of  State  Officers. 

The  custom  of  qualifying  freemen,,  as  before  ob- 
served, fell  into  disuse  about  the  year  1689.  But  for 
some  years  previous  to  that  the  distinction  between 
Freemen  and  Residents  seems  to  have  been  by  degrees 
growing  less  and  less  marked. 


"  He  was  of  noble  parentage, 

and  he  was  father,  too. 
Of  sons  brave,  virtuous  and  sage, 

and  daughters  faire  and  true. ' ' 

We  find  Mr.  Newhall  here  in  the  Third  Plantation  as 
early  as  1630.  Perhaps  the  remark  on  page  114,  that 
he  was  the  father  of  the  great  Newhall  family  of  New 
England,  was  a  little  too  liberal,  for  we  find  that  An- 
thony Newhall,  and  one  or  two  others  of  the  stock, 
came  over  at  an  early  day.  Indeed  the  stereotype 
assertion  of  historians,  when  speaking  of  New  England 
families,  that  "  three  brothers  came  over,"  may  be 
made  of  the  Newhalls  with  an  average  probability  of 
truth. 

The  name,  in  this  country,  has  always  been  variously 
spelled — as,  Newhall,  Newall,  Newell,  and  even,  in 
the  last  mode,  with  the  extraordinary  prefix  of  an  h  to 
the  last  syllable.  And  it  is  not  easy  now  to  deter- 
mine which  spelling  was  first  adopted  here.  Newhall, 
at  all  events,  is  a  very  ancient  style.  And  that 
must  be  the  right  one,  unless  the  reputed  origin  of  the 
name  be  fabulous.  As  elsewhere  remarked,  we  feel 
little  interest  in  tracing  ancestry.  But  occasionally  a 
leisure  hour  may  be  agreeably  spent  in  the  service, 
especially  when  so  honorable  a  line  as  that  in  question 
is  concerned.     Manv  members  of  that  flimily  Avho  have 

(117) 


118  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

not  become  acquainted  with  the  curious  learning  re- 
specting their  origin  may  be  gratified  with  a  brief 
sketch.  And  those  readers  who  are  not  so  happy  as 
to  be  members,  may  have  similar  reason  to  be  pleased 
with  a  hasty  glance  into  the  fountain  whence  sprang 
the  blood  that  flows  in  most  American  veins.  Let  us 
then,  for  a  moment,  dig  together  some  distance  back 
among  the  clods  of  time  ;  for  it  is  often  with  families 
as  with  carrots,  the  best  part  being  under  ground. 

Some  fourteen  hundred  years  ago,  or  during  the 
first  half  of  the  fifth  century,  a  grim,  barbaric  host, 
calling  themselves  Saxons  and  hailing  from  the  small 
islands  at  the  mouth  of  the  Elbe,  and  the  Baltic  shores, 
made  their  appearance  in  England.  They  had  been 
invited  over  by  the  Britons,  who  were  then  weak  and 
much  exposed  to  the  inroads  of  the  Scots,  Picts  and 
other  fierce  adventurers.  Previously,  for  some  cen- 
turies, perhaps  all  the  time  from  the  days  of  Julius 
Cesar,  the  Britons  had  been  protected  by  the  Romans. 
But  the  latter  had  recently  withdrawn,  as  Rome  needed 
all  her  forces  at  home  to  defend  against  the  Goths  and 
Vandals. 

The  Saxons  were  a  warlike,  shrewd  and  persevering 
race  —  much  like  uncivilized  Yankees  —  and  soon  beat 
off  all  the  enemies  of  the  Britons.  But  it  turned  out 
that  the  Britons  were  no  great  gainers  by  the  valor  of 
the  Saxons,  for  no  sooner  were  the  invaders  driven  off 
than  the  Saxons  completely  subjugated  the  Britons 
themselves  and  erected  a  government  of  their  own. 
And  they  kept  up  a  continual  scene  of  petty  war  and 
rapine,  holding  the  poor  Britons,  as  long  as  there 
were  any  left,  in  the  most  abject  condition. 

It  has  been  said  tliat  the  laws  of  a  nation  are  the 
surest  index  of  their  character  and  condition.     And  it 


THOMAS    NEWHALL.  119 

must  be  so;  for  the  laws  of  a  community  proceed  from 
its  very  bosom  and  business.  The  humanity,  the  moral 
and  intellectual  state  and  degree  of  civilization  of  a 
people  may  be  unmistakably  ascertained  by  this  me- 
dium—  also  their  warlike,  agricultural  or  commercial 
characteristics.  And  hence  a  slight  glance  at  the  Saxon 
jurisprudence  may  be  useful. 

The  Saxons  recognised  the  trial  by  judicium  Dei,  as 
they  called  it ;  or  ordeal.  First,  there  was  the  fire 
ordeal,  designed  for  the  more  eminent  of  criminals. 
The  person  charged  Avas»adjudged  to  walk  bare  footed 
and  blindfolded,  over  nine  red  hot  ploughshares  laid 
lengthwise  a  little  distance  apart.  If  he  passed  over 
witliout  treading  on  them,  or  treading  on  them  was 
unhurt,  he  was  considered  innocent.  Emma,  the 
mother  of. Edward  the  Confessor,  is  stated  to  have 
gone  through  this  ordeal  unharmed,  thus  purging  her- 
self of  the  charge  of  unchaste  commerce  with  the 
bishop  of  Winchester.  Second,  there  was  the  hot 
water  ordeal,  by  which  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  a 
party  was  determined  by  thrusting  the  arm  into  boiling 
water.  If  the  arm  came  out  unharmed,  the  person  was 
adjudged  innocent ;  otherwise,  guilty.  Third,  the  cold 
water  ordeal,  in  which  the  accused  Avas  secured  by  a 
cord  under  the  arms  and  plunged  overboard.  If  he 
sank,  and  remained  at  the  bottom  for  a  certain  specified 
time,  he  was  deemed  innocent  and  drawn  up.  Floating 
was  considered  evidence  of  guilt.  Such  were  trials 
by  ordeal ;  and  they  seem  to  have  originated  in  the 
extraordinary  genius  of  the  Saxons.  And  while  we 
can  hardly  accept  them  as  evidence  of  a  peculiarly 
intelligent  conception  of  Christian  truth,  the}'  yet  show 
a  reliance  on  the  special  interposition  of  Providence 
for  the  relief  of  the  innocent  and  punishment  of  the 


120  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

f^-iilfcy,  more  talked  about  than  apparently  believed  in 
by  the  good  people  of  this  day. 

The  Saxons  were  really  but  a  shade  above  savages 
in  character,  and  in  their  diplomacy  depended  much 
more  upon  their  clubs  and  battle-axes  than  upon  the 
justice  of  their  cause. 

Christianity  was  probably  introduced  into  Britain 
during  the  Roman  occupation;  perhaps  as  early  as  the 
days  of  the  apostles.  But  it  appears  to  have  existed 
only  in  spots.  If  the  Saxons,  in  the  early  part  of  their 
occupation  made  any  pretension  to  Christianity,  it  was 
of  a  curious  kind  and  mixed  up  with  many  dark  and 
unsavory  superstitions.  At  all  events,  it  seems  certain 
that  nothing  that  could  properly  be  called  the  Christian 
religion  prevailed  through  the  land  before  the  seventh 
century.  Whatever  their  religion  was,  in  it  they  were 
extremely  gross  and  addicted  to  cruel  and  bloody  rites, 
believing  in  auguries  and  charms  and  frequently  sacri- 
ficing human  beings.  They  had,  indeed,  improved  but 
little  on  the  Druidism  of  the  former  age.  The  whole 
Saxon  policy  was  based  on  selfishness  and  violence. 
Intelligence  and  just  dealing  were  hardly  known.  Pe- 
cuniary satisfaction  was  received  for  all  manner  of 
cfimes,  and  every  kind  of  corruption  prevailed.  In 
short,  the  early  Saxons  were  ignorant,  unprincipled, 
blood  thirsty  barbarians. 

Wo  have  thus  endeavored  to  recall  to  the  mind  of 
the  reader  one  or  two  points  in  the  character  of  the 
people  whose  blood  some  of  our  fourth  of  July  orators 
and  lyceum  lecturers  instruct  us  to  be  very  proud 
of  having  in  our  veins.  But  yet  there  were  in  those 
stern  old  Saxon  souls  germs  of  true  greatness.  And 
as  they  increased  in  civilization  and  embraced  a  moro 
rational  religion,  they  began  to  discover  most  excellent 


THOMAS  NEWHALL.  121 

traits.  And  we  are  justified,  to  a  considerable  extent, 
in  feeling-  proud  of"  our  inheritance  from  them.  But 
do  we  not  rather  overestimate  our  obligation  ?  Strong 
will,  independence  of  thought,  and  freedom  of  action, 
are  unquestionably  Saxon  traits.  And  are  they  not  just 
as  unquestionably  Yankee  traits  ?  They  are  what  dis- 
tinguish Americans  from  all  people  not  of  the  same 
lineage. 

The  first  settlers  of  New  England  were  impatient  of 
control  and  extremely  jealous  of  the  centralization  of 
power.  Like  the  old  Saxons,  each  one  claimed  for 
himself  abilit}'  to  sustain  a  part  in  the  administration 
of  public  affairs,  and  was  fond  of  having  his  claim 
allowed.  And  this  has  grown  with  our  growth  and 
strengthened  with  our  strength,  till  we  have  become 
the  most  ravenous  office  seekers  on  earth.  This  would 
perhaps  admit  of  a  show  of  justification  were  the  great 
purpose  to  have  affairs  administered  aright.  But  when 
the  scramble  is  merely  for  emoluments  or  honors,  it 
is  about  time  to  ask  if  the  ship  is  not  heading  for 
breakers.  Nevertheless,  the  great  point  that  all  should 
have  an  equal  chance,  is  manly. 

The  Great  and  General  Court  of  our  earl}-  colonial 
days  was,  as  before  remarked,  composed  of  the  whole 
body  of  freemen.  And  when  the  numbers  had  so 
increased  that  the  assembly  became  too  numerous  to 
be  held  within  doors,  they  did  not,  like  tlie  Icelanders, 
hold  annual  assemblies  of  the  whole  people  in  the  open 
air,  which  would  have  been  but  a  carrying  out  of  the 
principle  tliey  so  highly  regarded,  but  established 
the  Annual  Town  Meeting,  at  which  all  the  freemen 
could  meet  in  their  own  towns  and  elect  from  among 
themselves  such  as  they  were  willing  to  trust  their 
interests  with  in  the  General  Court.     The  individuals 


122  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

SO  elected  were  at  first  called  Deputies,  afterwards, 
Representatives.  As  the  towns  increased  in  pupulation 
city  organizations  were  resorted  to  for  obviating  the 
inconveniences  of  large  assemblages.  But  the  people 
came  slowly  to  this.  Boston,  the  first  city  in  the  Bay 
State,  did  not  receive  her  charter  till  1822,  and  then  had 
a  population  of  some  45,000.  Within  the  last  twenty 
years,  however,  several  places  have  adopted  the  more 
aristocratic  form  of  government.  Lynn,  the  bright 
blossom  of  the  Third  Phmtation,  made  the  year  1850 
memorable  in  the  annals  of  the  world  by  then  taking 
her  rank  as  a  city.  But  all  such  changes  so  far  in- 
crease the  distance  from  elementary  freedom.  And  if 
they  add  to  the  facilities  for  governing  they  also  afford 
the  better  opportunities  for  ambitious  politicians  to 
successfully  pursue  their  ends. 

Our  forefathers,  to  a  considerable  extent,  eschewed 
the  formalities  that  seem  necessary  in  conducting  our 
more  complicated  public  business.  Nor  were  they 
scared  at  any  cry  about  legislating  for  men's  conscien- 
ces or  the  hazard  of  departing  from  precedent.  It  was 
their  way  to  determine  every  matter  by  its  own  merits, 
unhampered  by  old  forms  and  precepts.  And  the  Sax- 
on blood  that  was  in  them  led  to  this  independence,  as 
well  as  to  watchfulness  against  ajjproaches  towards  a 
centralization  of  power. 

Now  the  policy  of  the  Normans,  who  in  1066  subju- 
gated the  Saxons,  was  directly  the  reverse  of  the  policy 
of  the  latter.  They  were  for  centralizing  political  pow- 
er; taking  it,  as  far  as  possible,  from  the  people,  and 
lodging  it  Avith  the  sovereign  and  aristocracy.  In  short, 
the  Normans  established  the  feudal  system. 

And  as  regards  the  two  lines  of  policy  —  Saxon  and 
Norman  —  there  is  no   doubt  that  by  the  Saxon  the 


THOMAS  NEWHALL.  123 

strength  and  energy  of  a  people  are  much  more  surely 
brought  into  action,  though  there  may  be  clanger  that 
rampant  ambition  will  work  ruin.  The  natural  power 
of  a  people  resides  in  the  lower  classes.  And  any 
polity  that  has  a  tendency  to  repress  it,  is  cramping 
and  wrong.  The  Norman  polity  was  calculated  to 
blunt  the  national  energies,  though  it  gave  greater 
stability  to  affiiirs.  Mere  peace  and  security,  however, 
to  the  American  mind  seem  but  a  poor  return  for  the 
abridgment  of  leading  natural  rights.  The  influence 
of  the  English  Church  was  deemed  by  our  fathers 
favorable  to  centralization  and  an  aristocracy  —  the 
Squire's  pew  and  his  Lordship's  tablet  had  met  their 
eyes  in  the  sanctuary  —  and  hence  sprang  much  of 
their  hatred  towards  it.  The  Papal  Church  was  in- 
clined to  the  very  extreme  in  that  direction ;  and 
hence  there  never  was  much  love  for  it  in  minds 
partaking  of  the  Saxon  element. 

But  we  have  said  enough  of  those  bluff  old  Saxons, 
they  were  introduced  here  for  the  laudable  purpose  of 
showing  from  what  brilliant  ancestry  the  Newhalls 
descended ;  for,  on  the  maternal  side,  the  first  Newhall 
was  a  pure  Saxon. 

The  great  male  progenitor  of  the  Newhalls  was  a 
Norman.  It  was  in  the  eleventh  century  that  the 
Normans  invaded  England  and  under  William  the  Con- 
queror made  themselves  masters  of  the  land.  They 
were  of  the  Scandinavian  race,  and  came  chiefly  from 
Norway  and  Denmark ;  were  fierce  and  warlike,  but 
much  in  advance  of  the  Saxons,  in  several-  respects. 
They  secured  the  supremacy  at  the  battle  of  Hastings, 
October,  1066.  And  it  was  a  conquest  overwhelming 
and  complete ;  almost  as  destructive  to  the  Saxons  as 
was  the  Saxon  conquest  to  the  poor  Britons. 


124  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

The  Normans  had  a  better  religion  and  more  polished 
manners  than  the  Saxons,  and  evidently  considered 
themselves  as  belonging  to  a  better  race.  Bat  they 
had  a  more  imperfect  conception  of  individual  right 
and  responsibility.  It  may  be  mentioned  as  an  illus- 
tration of  certain  differences  of  character  between  the 
two  people  that  the  night  before  the  battle  of  Hastings 
was  spent  by  the  Normans  in  prayer  and  religious  exer- 
cises and  by  the  Saxons  in  drunkenness,  rioting  and 
buffoonery.  Yet  the  Normans  were  predatory  in  their 
habits,  perfidious  and  inhuman.  Their  administration 
was  sustained  by  force  and  sanguinary  violence.  And 
a  most  cruel  disregard  was  manifested  for  the  claims 
and  rights  of  those  whom  they  had  subjugated. 

The  Christianity  of  the  Normans  was  evidently  not 
ot  a  very  elevated  type  though  better  than  that  of  the 
Saxons.  Their  lawsuits  were  determined  in  about  as 
rational  a  way  as  that  of  ordeal.  They  introduced  the 
trial  by  battle,  or  single  combat;  that  is,  plaintiff  and 
defendant  had  a  regular  fight,  and  judgment  was  pro- 
nounced in  favor  of  the  victor.  Our  phrase  ''  throwing 
down  the  glove  "  comes  from  the  custom.  The  appel- 
lee threw  down  his  glove  and  declared  himself  ready 
to  defend  by  his  body.  The  appellant  took  up  the 
glove  and  replied  that  with  his  body  he  would  make 
good  his  appeal.  The  battle  was  fought  with  batons. 
In  a  murder  case,  for  instance,  if  the  one  charged  could 
maintain  the  fight  from  sunrise  till  early  starlight  he 
was  acquitted;  otherwise  he  Avas  adjudged  guilty  and 
immediat-ely  hanged.  And  it  is  remarkable  that  this 
singular  feature  became  so  woven  into  English  juris- 
prudence that  the  right  of  appeal  to  battle  was  not 
abolished  till  within  the  present  century ;  though  the 
taste,  or  more  probably  the  coiirage,  of  the  people  did 


THOMAS   NEWHALL.  125 

not  often  lead  them  to  resort  to  it  during  the  last  cen- 
tury or  two.  And  we  cannot  avoid  remarking  that 
were  it  revived  and  established  as  an  imperative  pro- 
ceeding, in  civil  actions,  in  our  American  courts,  the 
dockets  would  probably  soon  cease  to  groan  under 
such  interminable  lists  of  cases  as  they  now  do. 

In  August,  1817,  one  Abraham  Thornton  was  tried 
at  Warwick,  England,  for  the  murder  of  Mary  Ashford, 
a  gay  country  girl;  and  though  there  were  circumstan- 
ces appearing  much  against  him,  yet  he  was  acquitted, 
the  judge,  Holroyd,  considering  that  an  alibi  had  been 
fully  proved.  Soon  after  the  acquittal,  however,  a 
brother  of  the  murdered  girl  was  induced  to  proceed 
against  Thornton,  for  a  second  trial,  by  the  ancient 
Writ  of  Appeal,  which  process  rather  demanded  pun- 
ishment for  the  private  and  particular  injury  than  for 
the  offence  against  the  public.  Thornton  was  again 
arrested  and  taken  to  London  for  trial  in  the  King's 
Bench  Court. 

Now  it  happened  to  occur  to  Thornton's  shrewd 
legal  advisers,  that  the  same  old  law  that  enabled  Ash- 
ford to  take  out  his  writ  of  appeal  also  enabled  the 
one  against  whom  it  was  brought  to  meet  it  by  Wager 
of  Battle.  So  when  the  case  came  on,  Thornton  aston- 
ished not  only  the  court  and  bar,  but  the  Avhole  nation, 
by  the  plea :  '''  Not  Guilty.  And  I  am  ready  to  defend 
the  same  by  my  body."  Then  he  threw  his  glove 
upon  the  floor.  The  next  proceeding  was  for  each 
party  to  present  in  regular  form  all  the  facts  upon 
either  side  of  the  main  question ;  the  appellant  endea- 
voring to  show  that  the  appellee  was  guilty,  and  the 
appellee  endeavoring  to  show  his  innocence.  Then 
the  eminent  counsel,  Chitty  for  the  appellant  and  Tin- 
dal  for  the   appellee,  elaborately  argued   the    cause. 


123  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

And,  IJiially,  the  court  determined  that  it  had  not  been 
made  sufficiently  clear  that  Thornton  was  guilty  to 
deny  him  the  right  of  battle.  This  placed  things  in 
rather  an  ominous  position,  for  it  happened  that  Thorn- 
ton was  an  athletic  man  and  Ashford  quite  a  stripling. 
The  court,  however,  without  formally  announcing  a 
determination  to  allow  the  battle,  made  some  sugges- 
tions. And  before  a  decision  was  promulgated  Ashford 
prayed  for  leave  to  discontinue  his  appeal.  His  prayer 
was  granted  and  Thornton  of  course  discharged.  This, 
as  remarked,  was  in  1817  ;  and  it  appears  to  be  the  last 
case  on  record  in  which  this  singular  right  was  de- 
manded. The  attorney  general,  soon  after,  brought  in 
a  bill  to  repeal  the  strange  old  relic  of  Norman  juris- 
prudence. Thornton  had  respectable  connections,  but 
does  not  appear  to  have  been  of  the  best  habits.  Soon 
after  this  occurrence  he  came  to  America,  under  an 
assumed  name.  And  it  has  been  said  that  a  stranger 
who  died  .t  J  jnn  in  1820,  Avas  this  f^ame  individual. 

By  the  Norman  customs  the  pugilistic  propensities 
of  our  nature  became  regulated  by  scientific  rules. 
The  prize  ring  is  a  Norman  institution.  And  we  find 
the  "  noble  art  of  self  defence  "  fostered  among  all 
people  of  the  Norman  lineage.  Christianity  has  not 
extinguished  the  savage  propensitv  of  some  to  pommel 
and  be  pommeled;  nor  the  delight  of  others,  more 
careful  of  their  own  heads,  to  witness  such  ennobling 
exhibitions.  The  great  contest  in  England,  in  April, 
1860,  between  Heenan,  the  Am'^rican  champion,  and 
Sayers,  the  British,  created  a  thrill  throughout  both 
countries  about  equal  to  tliat  produced  by  the  battle 
of  Bunker  Hill,  and  afforded  a  rather  remarkable  illus- 
tration of  the  refined  taste  of  all  classes. 

It  is  well  determined  that  the  Feudal  System  was 


THOMAS  NEWHALL.  127 

established  about  the  year  1075;  though  some  have 
imagined  that  traces  of  it  could  be  found  among  the 
Saxons.  But  it  seems  quite  clear  that  the  Saxons  had 
no  settled  tenures  of  a  feudal  character.  Lordship  and 
vassalage  have  justly  been  denominated  a  Norman  prin- 
ciple. William  the  Conqueror  divided  the  kingdom 
into  what  may  be  called  baronies.  And  these  were 
granted  to  men  of  superior  military  prowess  and  fidel- 
ity;  the  condition  being  that  they  should  hold  them- 
selves in  readiness  to  furnish  a  stated  number  of 
knights  or  soldiers  and  a  certain  amount  of  inoney  at 
the  call  of  the  sovereign.  The  people  became  the  mis- 
erable and  slavish  subjects  of  the  barons,  whose  lordly 
castles  began  to  tower  up  in  grim  grandeur  all  over 
the  land.  The  freedom  of  the  masses  became  extinct. 
A  very  few  of  the  old  English  castles  date  back  as 
far  as  the  earlier  Saxon  times.  But  they  Avere  not 
probably  erected  for  such  purposes  as  were  those  of 
the  feudal  times.  And  many  of  the  venerable  erec- 
tions that  the  English  now  call  Saxon  are  Norman. 
During  the  brief  interval  from  1016  to  1041,  when  the 
Danes  under  Canute  the  Great,  Harold  Harefoot  and 
Hardicanute,  held  the  supremacy,  probably  not  one 
castle  was  erected.  But  the  Normans,  on  introducing 
the  feudal  system,  completed  a  large  number.  They 
were  generally  built  on  an  extensive  scale  and  in  the 
most  substantial  manner.  Sometimes  they  were  erected 
near  rivers  and  sometimes  on  eminences.  When  upon 
a  site  easy  of  access,  they  were  surrounded  by  moata 
with  bridges  that  might  be  drawn  up ;  and  the  pon- 
derous walls  were  proof  against  any  warlike  engine 
of  the  day.  From  the  turrets  of  these  lordly  castles, 
extensive  views  were  had,  and  an  enemy  stood  small 
chance  of  approaching  undiscovered. 


128  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

In  tlieae  castles  the  old  barons  dwelt  in  lordly  state, 
surrounded  by  their  tenantry  and  vassals,  who  tilled 
the  soil  and  devoted  their  lives  to  their  lords.  Some- 
times the  barons  made  war  upon  each  other,  marching 
forth  with  their  little  armies  and  devastating  the  terri- 
tory of  their  hostile  compeers.  Little  attention  was 
paid  to  learning  or  the  elegant  arts  and  refinements  of 
life.  The  chase,  the  tournament,  feasting  and  reveling 
occupied  most  of  the  time  spared  from  the  service  of 
the  sovereign.  A  chivalric  spirit  was  fostered,  and  a 
rude  but  hearty  hospitality  reigned.  Devotion  to  the 
fascinations  of  female  society  and  a  spirit  of  undefined 
knight  errantry  inspired  the  young;  wine  and  wassail 
edified  the  old.  We  look  back  upon  that  period  as 
enveloped  in  a  radiant  mist.  It  was  a  transition  period. 
And  from  its  rugged  inspiration  the  more  ennobling 
traits  of  English  character  began  to  develop,  though 
■with  no  great  rapidity. 

The  baronial  establishments  so  increased  that  at  the 
close  of  Stephen's  reign,  in  1154,  more  than  a  thousand 
castles  existed.  And  a  large  portion  of  them  continued 
to  lift  their  frowning  battlements  for  a  long  series  of 
yearSj  furnishing  strongholds  for  contending  parties 
during  the  turbulent  times  of  the  Plantagenets,  the 
Red  and  White  Roses  and  the  early  Tudors.  Around 
them  clusters  much  of  the  most  stirring  romance  of 
English  history. 

The  barons,  when  united,  possessed  an  irresistible 
power  in  the  kingdom.  They  even  extorted  from  King 
John,  in  1215,  the  Magna  Charta,  which  remains  indis- 
putable evidence  of  their  power,  for  kings  had  rather 
part  with  their  teeth  than  their  prerogatives.  To  this 
day  the  great  charter  is  known  as  the  bulwark  of 
English  liberty.     But  the  sturdy  barons  were  human 


THOMAS    NEWHALL.  129 

beings,  and  as  such  often  grossly  inconsistent,  denying 
to  their  inferiors  some  of  the  dearest  natural  rights, 
while  making  the  most  exacting  demands  for  them- 
selves. 

At  times,  the  recognised  power  of  the  barons  over 
the  peasantry  seems  to  have  been  almost  unlimited. 
And  in  many  instances  that  power  was  exercised  in  a 
cruel  and  mercenary  manner.  The  extraordinary  right 
of  the  lord  to  be  the  first  occupant  of  the  peasant's 
bridal  bed  was  sometimes  compromised  at  a  most  des- 
perate sacrifice  on  the  subject's  part.  In  a  word,  the 
rule  of  the  barons  was  harsh  and  spirit-crushing  in 
the  extreme. 

The  way  seems  now  prepared  to  come  more  directly 
to  the  romantic  origin  of  the  Newhall  family.  We 
have  said  that  the  great  father  of  the  line  was  a  Nor- 
man of  pure  blood,  and  the  great  mother  a  Saxon  of 
blood  equally  pure. 

There  was  in  Wiltshire,  in  the  reign  of  Richard  Coeur 
de  Lion,  a  wealthy  baron,  of  unmixed  Norman  lineage. 
His  castle  was  on  a  bold  and  commanding  site  among 
the  highlands  that  rise  not  far  from  the  western  border 
of  Salisbury  Plain.  His  domain  was  extensive  and 
rich,  and  his  tenantry  among  the  most  happy  in  the 
realm.  His  magnificent  castle  was  one  of  the  first  and 
strongest,  and  had  withstood  many  a  fierce  assault. 
Its  ponderous  walls  and  deep  moat  showed  that  at  the 
time  of  its  erection  it  was  expected  that  the  mad  waves 
of  war  would  beat  against  it.  Its  stern  old  towers 
and  mossy  turrets  overlooked  a  glorious  landscape. 
And  within,  it  Avas  fashioned  to  meet  the  exigences  of 
sudden  invasion  as  well  as  the  demands  of  a  most  exten- 
sive hospitality.  The  capacious  banqueting  halls  were 
sufficient  for  the  many  gentry  who  assembled  at  tour- 

F*  a 


130  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

nament  or  other  festival;  and  their  retinues  found 
ample  room  and  unstinted  cheer.  There,  the  fairest 
maidens  of  the  land  displayed  their  charms,  and  fasci- 
nated by  their  feats  of  grace  and  daring,  in  field  and 
forest.  And  there  the  devoted  knight,  unknowing  fear 
when  meeting  hostile  knight,  knelt  humbly  for  the 
favor  of  his  lady-love.  The  huntsman's  horn  rang  out 
at  break  of  day,  and  the  answering  hounds  bayed 
their  readiness  for  duty.  The  hawker  cried,  and  the 
sanguinary  bird  wheeled  from  its  airy  height,  eager  to 
do  its  murderous  work.  In  peaceful  times,  the  days 
passed  in  almost  unbroken  festivity;  and  when  the 
solemn  notes  of  the  curfew  bell  came  sounding  over 
the  hills,  the  tired  revellers  were  quite  ready  for 
repose. 

Among  the  tenantry  of  this  Wiltshire  baron  was  an 
enterpi'ising  and  trustworthy  householder  who  had  al- 
ways stood  high  in  the  estimation  of  his  lord,  and  been 
the  recipient  of  many  favors.  His  most  loved  occupa- 
tion was  husbandry,  though  he  was  not  unskillful  with 
the  sword  nor  wanting  in  valor,  as  was  fairly  shown 
on  more  than  one  occasion  when  he  had  supported  his 
superior  on  the  field.  He  Avas  entrusted  with  such 
duties  as  not  unfrequently  required  his  presence  at 
the  castle  ;  and  there  his  intelligence  and  good  manners 
secured  for  him  a  reception  more  like  that  of  an  equal 
than  a  dependent.  Now  this  tenant  was  of  pure  Saxon 
blood.  He  could  as  directly  trace  his  pedigree  to  the 
Saxon  fount  as  could  the  baron  trace  his  to  the  Norman. 
He  took  great  pride  in  his  descent,  and  professed  much 
satisfaction  in  transmitting  to  his  children  untainted 
blood,  for  his  conjugal  bed  was  shared  by  one  of  as 
pure  Saxon  origin  as  he.  And  many  a  bantering  did 
he  and  his  good  humored  liege  engage  in  as  to  the 


THOMAS  NEWHALL.  131 

merits  of  tbeir  respective  races  ;  such  contests  usually 
terminating  in  the  sportive  remark  by  the  baron  that 
in  pity  for  the  rest  of  the  world  he  hoped  that  at 
some  time  a  way  might  be  opened  for  the  production 
of  a  race  of  demi-gods  by  a  union  of  such  purity  and 
power ;  and  darkly  hinting  that  even  then  means 
seemed  preparing,  by  which  a  consummation  so  de- 
voutly to  be  desired  might  some  day  be  attained. 

The  home  of  this  favored  tenant  was  graced  by  a 
daughter  of  rare  endowments.  To  her  beautiful  Saxon 
features  was  added  a  charming  delicacy  of  manner. 
And  her  sparkling  wit  and  graceful  assurance  were 
irresistibly  fascinating.  From  earliest  childhood  she 
had  been  a  sort  of  pet  at  the  castle,  whither  she  often 
went  with  her  father.  And  the  inmates,  in  a  compan- 
ionable way,  instructed  her  in  arts  and  accomplisliments 
more  befitting  the  lordly  condition  than  that  in  which 
she  was  born.  She  loved  with  the  jovial  lordlings  to 
sport  t-u'ough  the  ancieiU  halls,  diaa.ied  by  the  grim 
armorial  hangings ;  to  listen  to  the  wandering  legend- 
ary's tales,  the  harpist's  lays,  tlie  jester's  merry  turns. 
But  more  than  all  she  loved  to  steal  away  to  a  quaint 
little  room  far  up  in  the  old  tower,  where  alone  she 
might  scan  the  glorious  landscape,  with  its  glistening 
streams,  green  woods  and  flowery  meadows,  and  con- 
template the  bright  picture  of  her  own  dear  cottage 
home  nestling  in  the  hill  side  copse,  with  the  lowing 
herds  and  bleating  flocks  dotting  the  broad  fields. 
In  that  undisturbed  retreat,  too,  she  loved  to  sit  and 
ruminate  upon  such  subjects  as  might  Avell  be  expected 
to  agitate  a  young  and  susceptible  heart  in  that  age 
of  gallantry  and  romance.  And  as  the  darker  shades 
of  twiUght  gathered,  she  might  be  excused  for  the 
fancy  —  if  fancy  it  were  or  an  excuse  were  needed — - 


132  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

that  she  beheld  some  brave  knight  galloping  athwart 
the  plain  to  meet  his  lady-love,  at  the  far  off  castle  just 
descernible  upon  a  frowning  crag  among  the  dim  hills; 
or  some  hapless  fugitive,  fleeing  for  shelter  within 
the  sacred  precincts  marked  by  the  gray  convent 
tower. 

And  could  fair  Haroldine  —  for  such  appears  to  have 
been  the  baptismal  name  of  her  of  whom  we  speak  — 
Lave  been  permitted,  in  one  of  her  contemplative 
moods  to  have  thrown  a  glance  into  the  then  far 
future,  even  to  this  our  day,  what  would  she  have 
beheld?  In  the  picture  unrolled  would  she  have 
found  most  cause  to  rejoice  over  an  array  of  virtuous 
eons  and  daughters,  zealous  to  do  good,  and  honoring 
the  line  of  which  she  was  the  great  mother  —  we  mean 
the  Newhall  —  or  to  weep  over  an  army  of  blockheads 
and  heartless  worldlings,  zealous  to  do  evil,  and  cloud- 
ing it  with  dishonor?  Would  the  picture  have  been 
one  calculated  to  impart  fresh  inspiration  to  her  young 
heart,  and  lead  her  to  tread  those  halls  and  lawns  with 
a  prouder  step,  or  one  calculated  to  so  roughly  touch 
her  tender  nerves  as  to  induce  a  headlong  plunge  from 
that  frowning  parapet?  Answer  that,  to  your  own 
consciences,  ye  of  the  lineage. 

We  have  given  the  baptismal  name  of  this  fair 
daughter  of  the  Saxon  race,  but  are  unable  to  de- 
termine the  name  by  which  the  particular  family  was 
distinguished.  Surnames  wore  then  just  coming  into 
popular  use  in  England ;  and  a  great  many  of  those 
most  common  with  us  had  their  curious  origin  at  that 
period. 

When  she  had  arrived  at  a  suitable  age,  Haroldine 
had  many  admirers  among  the  higher  class  of  the 
baronial  tenantry.     And  though  a  little  coquetish,  she 


THOMAS  NEWHALL.  133 

was  not  of  a  temperament  to  witlistand  the  tender 
advances  of  young  Arthur,  the  manly  and  promising 
son  of  a  neighboring  tenant ;  especially  as  those  ad- 
vances were  supported  by  the  approval  of  her  parents 
and  their  well-wishers  at  the  castle. 

Arthur  and  Haroldine  became  affianced. 

He  was  of  her  own  position  in  life,  virtuous,  and  in 
every  way  worthy  of  her  hand.  Brave  and  loyal,  he 
was  looked  upon  by  the  lord  as  one  Avhose  strong  arm 
might  some  day  be  relied  upon  to  do  valiant  service 
in  support  of  the  barony  should  perils  beset  it.  He 
loved  the  excitements  and  dangers  of  the  field,  and  had 
already  by  his  courage  and  prowess  won  a  noble  suit 
of  armor,  in  which,  with  glittering  helmet,  his  erect 
form  rivalled  the  bravest  knight.  Yet,  though  he 
might  dream  of  wars  to  come,  and  renown  upon  the 
battle  field,  or  even  a  crusader's  glorious  benediction, 
he  must  still  meet  the  realities  of  life  in  the  field  of  the 
husbandman  and  the  duties  of  a  dependent. 

The  sweet,  dreamy  period  of  betrothal  passed  rapidly 
and  the  nuptial  day  of  Arthur  and  Haroldine  was  ap- 
pointed. And  it  was  arranged  that  the  ceremony 
should  take  place  at  the  castle. 

It  was  a  calm  autumnal  day.  The  sun  had  hardly 
begun  to  decline,  when  the  spacious  grounds  of  the 
castle  were  alive  with  the  joyous  tenantry,  all  in  their 
best  attire,  come  at  their  lord's  bidding,  to  make  merry 
and  greet  with  smiles  and  good  wishes  those  on  whose 
account  the  festivities  had  been  appointed. 

And  then,  as  the  first  shades  of  twilight  began  to 
gather,  beneath  the  patriarchal  branches  of  an  ancient 
hawthorn,  stood  Arthur,  his  manly  form  erect  and  his 
countenance  bearing  the  impress  of  serious  realization 
of  the  responsibilities  he  was  about  to  assume,  blended 


134  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

with  liappy  anticipation  of  tlio  i)loasures  in  store  for 
him.  By  his  side  was  Haroldine,  radiant  in  beauty, 
gazing  up  to  him  as  to  the  loved  warder  of  all  her 
earthly  happiness.  The  good  hearted  baron  and  the 
ladies  were  there.  And  there  too  was  the  jolly  old 
priest  in  liis  cleanest  robe. 

The  setting  sun  seemed  to  linger  a  moment  for 
some  kind  breeze  to  sway  an  interposing  bough  that 
it  might  bestow  a  last  kiss  on  the  virgin  lips  of  Harol- 
dine. Presently  the  wind  lent  its  friendly  aid,  and 
witli  the  kiss  offered  the  incense  of  flowers. 

The  sun  set ;  and  Haioldine  was  a  bride. 

The  occasion  of  the  nuptials  was  made  by  the  liberal 
souled  baron  such  a  one  as  even  a  petty  noble  might 
envy.  The  spacious  apartments  w'ere  thrown  open  to 
the  joyous  tenantry ;  and  the  brilliant  lights  shed  their 
lustre  on  boards  loaded  with  a  feast  of  fattest  things. 
And  when  all  had  eaten  and  drank,  the  old  harpers 
played,  the  minstrels  sang,  and  the  legendaries  chanted 
their  tales.  Then  the  stalwart  3'outh  donned  the  old 
suits  of  armor  and  engaged  in  friendly  tilt  with  halberd 
and  foil ;  while  in  the  group  of  shy  and  blushing 
maidens,  the  aged  crone  dispensed  her  fortunes  by 
her  palmistry  and  mirror  of  love. 

The  hour  of  midnight  came.  And  presently  all  was 
silent  at  the  castle.  The  tenantry  had  withdrawn  to 
their  quiet  homes,  each  bearing  some  simple  memorial 
of  the  occasion  fi'om  their  lord,  and  the  blessing  of  the 
priest.  None  remained,  save  xVrthur  and  his  bride. 
They,  in  compliance  with  the  ancient  custom,  were  to 
remain  till  morning. 

Soon,  the  midnight  silence  of  that  lately  laughter 
echoing  hall  was  broken  by  an  earnest  debate  between 
Arthur  and  his  lord.     The  baron  insisted  on  exercising 


THOMAS    NEWHALL.  135 

the  right  that  was  liis  by  the  strange  old  custom 
respecting  the  first  occupation  of  the  peasant's  bridal 
bed,  to  which  we  have  alkided.  And  even  now,  in 
the  most  sumptuous  lodging  apartment  that  the  castle 
afforded  were  the  maids  di.-robing  the  beaming  bride. 
It  was  long  in  vain  that  the  bridegroom  urged  upon 
his  lord  the  claims  of  nature,  of  honor  and  love ;  and 
as  long  in  vain  that  he  offered  all  his  money  and  goods. 
But  the  liege's  heart  was  not  of  stone.  He  relented, 
and  giving  his  faithful  subject  a  warm  grasp  of  the 
hand,  playfully  challenged  him  to  refer  the  question 
to  the  bride  herself  And  in  the  same  spirit  the  chal- 
lenge was  accepted ;  neither,  most  certainly,  doubting 
as  to  the  nature  of  the  answer  she  would  return. 

A  trusty  page  was  despatched  to  the  brid;d  chamber. 
And  he  soon  returned  with  the  strange  and  unexpected 
repl}',  that  the  custom  having  been  observed  by  her 
own  revered  ancestors,  from  respect  to  their  memory 
she  could  interpose  no  objection  to  its  course.  Who 
would  have  anticipated  such  an  answer?  Truly,  the 
female  heart  is  an  inexplicable  mystery.  Had  Shaks- 
peare  lived  before,  and  given  his  celebrated  definition 
of  frailty,  poor  Arthur  might  have  adopted  it  in  bitter- 
ness of  soul.  Yet,  one  may  readily  conceive  of  rea- 
sons that  might  have  strongly  urged  Haroldine  to  such 
a  decision,  even  without  taking  in  view  the  character 
of  the  age ;  an  age  when  derelictions  in  the  conjugal 
relation,  and  even  maiden  purity,  were  not  viewed  in  a 
light  like  that  of  the  present  day  ;  an  age  in  which 
many  a  fair  Rosamond  bloomed  unblushing  on  the 
baronial  manors. 

The  lord  did  not  banter  his  chilled  tenant  on  the 
unanticipated  success  that  had  met  his  challenge.  Nei- 
ther dill  the   tenant  give   vent  to   his   feelings.     The 


N. 


1S6  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

bright  hopes  that  a  few  hours  before  had  made  him 
the  happiest  of  men  had  suddenly  become  so  clouded 
that  he  was  now  the  most  miserable.  Yet  he  uttered 
no  curses,  no  lamentations.  But  there  was  a  terrible 
emphasis  in  his  silence. 

Without  speaking  a  word  Arthur  walked  forth  into 
the  cool  air.  With  his  own  strong  arm  he  lowered 
the  lightest  draw-bridge  and  passed  the  moat.  And  the 
first  streak  of  morning  light  found  him  away  upon 
Salisbury  Plain,  hastily  journeying  toward  the  far-off 
town  whose  tall  cathedral  spire  could  be  discerned 
even  from  tlie  castle  tower. 

But  what  could  have  been  the  feelings  that  swelled 
the  breast  of  Haroldine  when  the  maidens  had  left  her 
alone  in  that  gorgeous  chamber?  Reflection,  stern 
and  uncompromising,  must  have  claimed  at  least  a  mo- 
mentary sway.  With  what  blushes  must  her  radiant 
Saxon  face  have  burned.  And  how  wildly  must  her 
disquieted  heart  have  beat.  Formidable  must  have 
been  the  struggle  in  which  the  loved  image  of  Arthur 
was  forced  to  disappear  before  supposed  duty  or  frail 
inclination. 

A  few  months  passed,  and  we  find  Haroldine  mistress 
of  a  delightful  little  cottage  on  the  bank  of  a  small 
stream  that  flowed  from  one  of  the  noble  hunting 
parks  of  the  barony.  She  had  a  matronly  adviser  and 
gay  companions.  But  though  supplied  with  every 
.outward  appliance  for  enjoyment,  her  grave  demeanor 
plainly  declared  that  she  was  not  at  peace  within.  She 
had  received  no  tidings  of  Arthur  since  the  night  of  his 
bootless  bridal. 

A  pretty  garden  lay  between  the  door  of  the  cottage 
of  Haroldine  and  the  pleasant  road.  Noble  trees, 
choice   vines  and   shrubs  added  their  stately  beauty 


THOMAS    NEWHALL.  137 

and  grace  to  the  landscape,  far  and  near.  At  the  em- 
bowered gate -way  was  not  unfrequently  seen  the 
caparisoned  steed  of  the  baron  himself,  for  he  found 
the  cottage  an  agreeable  resting  place  in  his  hunting 
and  other  equestrian  excursions.  And  the  bay  of  the 
hound  and  scream  of  the  hawk  often  startled  the  adja- 
cent woods. 

From  the  night  that  the  old  priest  pronounced  him 
the  husband  of  Haroldine,  Arthur  had  never  been  seen 
within  the  barony.  It  was  supposed  that  he  had  gone 
to  the  foreign  wars.  And  many  thought  that  he  would 
soon  make  his  name  famous  and  return  to  England 
loaded  with  honors  and  wealth. 

Presently,  great  improvements  were  to  be  made  on 
the  baronial  grounds,  for  the  sovereign  was  to  visit 
the  lord  and  spend  a  few  jolly  days.  A  new  hall,  or 
lodge,  as  such  structures  seem  indiscriminately  to 
have  been  called,  must  be  first  erected  for  the  hunts- 
men's bouts.  And  soon,  in  a  fine  old  grove,  just  in 
sight  of  the  cottage  of  Haroldine,  did  the  fantastic 
walls  of  the  new  erection  begin  to  appear.  The  work 
went  bravely  on,  and  in  a  little  time  the  hall  was  ready 
for  dedication. 

A  grand  fete  was  held  on  the  inspiring  occasion  of 
dedicating  this  famous  new  hall.  The  gentry  from  far 
and  near  assembled.  The  day  was  spent  in  the  free 
sports  of  the  field,  and  the  evening  in  boisterous  hilari- 
ty. And  midnight  found  the  revellers  within  those 
new  walls,  enjoying  in  full  tide  the  unpolished  hospi- 
tality of  the  chief  of  the  barony. 

At  that  solemn  hour  of  mysteries  there  came  in  haste 
a  squire  with  a  message  for  the  baron's  ear.  And  what 
was  that  hastened  message?  It  was  even  that  there 
had  been  a  birth  in  ths  cottage  by  the  brook.     The 


138  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

fair  Haroldine  had  ushered  into  the  world  a  histy  h'ttle 
soldier  of  fortune.  Why  did  the  lord's  fine  Nurmim 
eye  so  suddenly  blaze  with  delight?  Wh}'  did  he 
instantly  call  his  boisterous  company  to  silence?  And 
why  did  he  with  so  many  pleasurable  emotions  inform 
them  of  the  happy  event  and  bid  tliem  fill  their  cups 
to  the  brim  with  choicest  wine  to  drink  to  the  mother 
and  her  son  ?  In  rude  eloquence  he  expressed  many 
generous  sentiments,  and  said  that  the  little  one  should 
begin  the  world  with  a  surname;  a  surname  that  in  after 
years  might  become  renowned  by  the  nobility  of  those 
who  would  proceed  from  him;  and  it  should  be  a  sur- 
name, too,  that  would  commemorate  the  event  that 
had  called  together,  in  such  a  friendly  way,  so  many  of 
the  Wiltshire  gentry. 

Then  they  all  stood  in  silence,  with  their  bumpers 
raised,  the  baron  pondering.  Presently  he  cried  out,  in 
a  voice  that  almost  shook  the  walls : 

"  His  name  shall  be  New-Hall  ! "  The  wine  was 
gulped  and  the  name  enrolled. 

And  now,  gentle  reader — for  you  must  be  gentle  to 
have  gone  unmurmuringly  Avith  us  on  tliis  long  histo- 
rical airing — we  will  return  to  the  neighborhood  of 
our  su!)ject.  We  have  stated  the  old  tradition  regard- 
ing the  origin  of  the  Newhall  line.  And  without 
holding  ourselves  responsible  for  its  truth  —  though 
we  have  heard  many  truths  much  more  wonderful  — 
beg  leave  to  remind  such  of  the  family  as  have  yet 
done  nothing  to  its  credit,  that  it  is  not  now  too  late 
to  begin  the  good  work. 

In  the  first  Newhall  we  behold  a  union  of  two  un- 
sanctified  races;  yet  the  immediate  father  and  mother — 
the  Norman  lord  of  the  grandest  castle  in  Wiltshire, 
and  his  beautiful  Saxon  subject  Haroldine  —  were  per- 


THOMAS  NEWHALL.  139 

haps  well  enough,  excepting  as  regards  the  particular 
occurrence  of  which  that  first  Newhall  was  a  conse- 
quence. But  the  Saxon  and  Norman  races  were  both, 
as  we  have  seen,  of  commanding  ability,  energy  and 
enterprise ;  though  we  have  been  careful  about  prais- 
ing their  morals  or  manners.  And  the  history  of  all 
after  time  has  proved  that  they  were  more  reliable  as 
a  stock  than  any  other  that  could  be  named. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  trace  the  pedigree ;  for,  as 
elsewhere  remarked,  we  could  not  go  far  back  from 
the  present  time  before  meeting  individuals  whom  we 
would  rather  avoid.  It  is  enough  for  us  to  give  the 
origin.  Others  can  follow  the  lineage.  Black  sheep 
they  will  find ;  but  not  in  greater  proportion  than  in 
other  folds.  In  some  individuals  the  Saxon  blood 
seems  to  predominate ;  in  others,  the  Norman.  After 
80  many  years  of  adulteration,  perhaps  no  reliable  mark 
can  be  fixed  on.  The  beard,  however,  has  been  con- 
sidered an  important  matter  among  mankind  from  Sam- 
son down.  The  Saxons  wore  their  beards  long.  The 
Normans  shaved  close.  So,  possibly,  the  taste  of  an 
individual,  as  regards  the  appendage  in  question,  may 
indicate  the  character  of  his  blood. 

Perhaps  some  foe  of  this  august  family  may  deri- 
sively smile  at  the  moral  blemish  that  attended  the 
first  born.  But  this  might  be  perilous  ;  for  possibly  it 
could  be  shown  that  he  came  from  no  purer  source. 
The  whole  world  might  be  drawn  into  the  contest  and 
the  Newhalls  come  out  as  bright  as  any ;  for  it  is  not 
recorded  that  even  Adam  and  Eve  had  a  marriage 
certificate. 

The  first  white  child  born  in  the  Third  Plantation 
was  a  ,son  of  Thomas  Newhall,  our  subject.  And  it 
was  baptised  by  Mr.  Batchellor,  the  first  minister.     On 


140  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

the  same  solemn  occasion-,  one  or  two  other  children 
appeared  at  the  sacred  font.  It  happened  that  little 
Tommy  was  handed  up  first.  But  the  minister  shoved 
him  aside,  and  gave  precedence  to  another.  Then  the 
snapping  of  those  enraged  little  Saxon  eyes  which  had 
so  lately  deigned  to  open  on  this  miserable  world,  the 
commotion  within  the  swaddling  blanket  just  about 
where  two  little  feet  might  have  been  supposed  to  be, 
and  above  all,  the  vigorous  exercise  of  those  infantile 
lungs,  showed  that  there  was  a  will  if  not  a  way  to 
offer  a  suitable  return  for  the  indignity.  The  recital 
of  this  interesting  little  occurrence  to  a  moody  member 
of  the  family,  gave  occasion  for  the  somewhat  petu- 
lent  reply  that  in  just  such  a  way  the  Newhalls  have 
always  been  shoved  aside  to  this  hour.  But  we  do 
not  see  cause  for  any  such  feeling.  Types  of  all  the 
orders  of  New  England  greatness  have  appeared  in 
the  family.  Numbers  have  crossed  their  legs  in  legis- 
lative chairs.  Others  have  sat  in  the  courts  of  law ; 
if  not  on  the  bench  certainly  in  the  criminal  dock. 
Some  have  beat  pulpit  cushions  with  their  apostolic 
knuckles.  Others  have  made  books.  Pedagogues, 
editors,  doctors,  lawyers,  shoemakers,  merchants,  farm- 
ers, fishermen  and  gentlemen,  have  appeared  in  the 
family  procession.  In  the  army  of  the  Revolution 
there  were  brave  representatives  from  Colonel  Ezra  of 
the  Massachusetts  line  down  to  the  red  nosed  drummer 
Ephraim.  The  Jersey  prison  ship  held  a  Newhall.  And 
one  of  the  first  that  followed  Paul  Jones  on  board  the 
Serapis  at  the  most  terrible  hour  of  the  whole  war, 
was  also  a  Newhall,  though  he  appears  to  have  ship- 
ped under  a  different  name.  One  was  a  voyager  in 
the  arctic  regions,  and  another  a  traveler  in  the  Ara- 
bian deserts.     The  bones  of  some  lie  at  the  bottom  of 


THOMAS   NEWHALL.  1-11 

the  ocean,  and  of  others  in  the  golden  clods  of  Cali- 
fornia. 

We  do  not  mean  to  say  that  any  particnlarly  brilliant 
stars  of  the  race  have  arisen  from  the  Newhall  branch — 
local  luminaries  always  excepted.  But  we  do  maintain 
that  it  has  presented  an  enviable  average ;  few  have 
attained  very  high  places  and  few  have  gone  very  low. 
Not  one  is  brought  to  mind  as  having  been  in  Congress 
or  in  the  State  Prison;  but  which  is  the  high  or  low 
of  these  two  places  may  admit  of  a  question.  The 
eagerness  with  which  some  seem  to  strive  to  win  a 
passport  to  the  latter,  which,  to  say  the  least,  is  the 
most  safe  and  peaceful,  would  indicate  that  they  es- 
teemed that  rather  the  more  elevated  and  desirable. 
Two  of  the  family,  however,  attained  very  considerablo 
heights.  One,  braved  the  ascent  of  the  Himmalay 
mountains  about  the  time  Bishop  Heber  was  in  that 
region,  and  in  defiance  of  the  good  prelate's  admoni- 
tions ;  but  he  was  punished  for  his  temerity  by  being 
turned  into  pillar  of  ice.  In  other  words,  he  froze  to 
death.  The  ascent  of  the  other  was  at  Boston.  But 
he  remained  up  a  short  time  only,  when  the  centripetal 
force  upon  him  was  so  great  as  to  violently  jerk  him 
through  a  trap  door;  and  had  he  not  been  providen- 
tially secured  to  a  beam  above,  by  a  rope  about  his 
neck,  his  legs  would  inevitably  have  been  broken.  As 
it  was,  only  his  neck  was  broken.  By  a  strange  coin- 
cidence this  event  happened  on  the  same  day  that  his 
neighbor  Hart,  alluded  to  on  a  preceding  page,  met 
a  similar  fate. 

Those  who  expect  to  find  a  family  without  an  un- 
worthy member,  will  as  surely  be  disappointed  as  those 
who  expect  to  find  a  tree  on  which  none  but  fair  fruit 
ever  grew.    A  good  average  is  all  that  we  should  expect 


142  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

in  any  thing.  And  of  such,  as  already  observed,  this 
family  can  certainly  boast. 

We  desire  to  say  all  these  things  with  becoming 
gravity ;  for  we  are  convinced  that  writers  often  seri- 
ously damage  themselves  and  their  cause  by  indulging 
in  what  they  call  wit,  satire  or  irony  —  and  so  do  talk- 
ers, as  to  that  matter.  But  satire  pleases  readers, 
especially  when  it  is  aimed  at  their  neighbors.  And 
through  this  infirmity  an  author  is  very  liable  to  be 
fooled.  If  a  writer  could  always  keep  in  mind  that 
the  reader  cares  nothing  about  him,  his  honor  or  inter- 
est, he  would  proceed  with  a  better  understanding.  It 
is  fair  to  conclude  that  for  every  satirical  ebullition 
at  least  six  enemies  are  made.  Dean  Swift,  we  believe, 
varies  somewhat  from  this  number,  in  his  estimate  ; 
but  perhaps  he  calculated  a  little  too  directly  from  his 
own  remarkable  experience.  However,  it  is  this  con- 
viction that  danger  lurks  in  raillery,  that  induces  us 
to  be  so  circumspect  in  our  language.  Aiid  the  reader 
will  please  give  us  the  benefit  of  our  care. 

Assuming  again  to  speak  for  the  great  Newhall  fam- 
ily in  America,  we  are  once  more  reminded  of  the 
common  saying  that  it  is  a  person's  own  flxult  that  he 
is  not  somebody  in  the  world.  How  often  it  is  said 
that  a  man  can  make  himself  whatever  he  desires  to 
be.  But  the  idea  that  one  can  shape  his  own  destiny, 
as  before  declared,  is  all  a  fudge.  And  it  is  wicked ; 
for  it  arrogates  to  man  a  prescience  that  belongs  only 
to  his  Maker,  and  altogether  sets  aside  providential 
intervention.  One  day  Mr.  Newhall  was  in  the  woods 
searching  for  the  northeast  bound  of  a  wood  lot. 
During  the  search  he  came  to  a  spot  where  three 
paths  met,  only  one  of  which  could  lead  to  the  object 
of  his  search,  and  which  that  one  was  he  had  no  pos- 


THOMAS  NEWHALL.  143 

sible  means  of  determining.  After  deliberately  weigh- 
ing the  probabilities,  and  being  warned  by  the  declining 
sun  that  his  time  was  short,  he  took  one  of  the  paths 
and  perseveringly  pursued  it.  But  if  he  had  followed 
it  till  this  time  he  would  not  have  reached  the  bound, 
excepting  that  he  might  have  stumbled  on  it  in  one 
of  his  circuits  of  the  earth.  It  was  not  the  right  path. 
It  led  into  a  deep  valley  of  hemlocks,  where  a  rainy 
night,  sundry  Avild  beasts,  and,  as  he  thought,  a  legion 
of  devils  amused  themselves  over  his  distresses  till 
morning.  Now  just  so  it  is  in  the  search  after  the 
good  of  life.  So  do  not  persist  in  declaring  that  fam- 
ilies or  individuals  have  power  to  shape  their  own 
destinies. 

Another  discouraging  circumstance  might  be  named 
in  this  connection.  At  least  three  feminine  members 
gave  extraordinary  promise.  But  as  their  lofty  and 
lustrous  qualities  began  to  develop,  they  must  needs 
transplant  themselves  into  new  families  and  turn  their 
backs  upon  the  very  name  of  Newhall.  One  became  a 
Pendergrubb  and  another  a  Bottleshock.  And  we 
see  from  the  present  reputation  of  those  names,  what 
excellence  the  Newhall  blood  imparted  to  its  new 
connections. 

Dean  Swift  said  that  a  man  who  caused  two  ears  of 
corn  or  two  blades  of  grass  to  grow  where  only  one 
grew  before,  was  more  worthy  of  praise  than  the  whole 
brood  of  politicians ;  or  something  like  that.  And  we 
say  that  if  this  be  true,  Mr.  Newhall,  our  subject,  was 
entitled  to  much  praise ;  for  he  caused  many  ears  of 
corn  and  many  blades  of  grass  to  grow  where  few 
grew  before.  The  broad  acres  that  he  cleared  and 
planted  were  his  incontrovertible  vouchers  for  this. 

He  was  one  of  the  first  as  well  as  best  farmers  in 


144  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

the  place ;  had  a  comfortable  house  and  good  stock 
of  pigs  and  poultry ;  also  two  cows  and  some  sheep. 
He  likewise  had  a  yoke  of  cattle  and  two  horses  at 
one  time.  His  dwelling  house  was  one  of  the  best 
that  had  been  erected  since  the  Plantation  began.  Its 
frame  was  of  oak,  rough  hewn,  to  be  sure,  but  firm  and 
durable.  The  thick,  unplaned  boards  of  the  exterior, 
overlapped  each  other  in  a  workman-like  manner,  ren- 
dering shingles  or  clapboards  unnecessary.  True,  the 
weather  soon  warped  them  to  a  degree  that  made  it 
necessary  to  use  considerable  seaweed  and  clay  in 
filling  the  interstices  to  defend  against  the  blasts  of 
winter  ;  and  this  made  it  look  a  little  like  a  beggar  who 
had  run  a  race  and  strained  open  the  seams  of  his 
garments  ;  but  then  there  were  few  eyes  around  that 
were  accustomed  to  look  upon  more  comely  architec- 
ture. 

The  habitation  faced  due  south ;  a  peculiarity  of 
location  quite  common  in  those  days.  It  enabled  the 
occupant  to  secure  the  greatest  benefit  of  the  sun  in 
winter,  and  to  keep  the  time  of  day  by  marks  on  the 
window  sill.  The  luxury  of  time  pieces  was  then 
almost  unknown ;  and  the  sun  and  shepherd's  clock 
had  important  duties  to  perform  beyond  those  expect- 
ed of  them  in  the  present  age,  when  their  usefulness 
in  horometry  has  been  superseded  by  the  ingenuity 
of  our  Connecticut  brethren.  Hour-glasses,  however, 
were  considerably  used,  being,  indeed,  a  sort  of  neces- 
sity in  cloudy  weather;  but  they  required  much  atten- 
tion. The  peculiar  location  of  the  houses  made  them 
occasionally  look  awry  as  regarded  the  street.  But 
the  streets  themselves,  at  that  time,  were  very  accom- 
modating, often  changing  their  course  for  the  sake  of 
having  a  handsome  house  smile  square  upon  them. 


THOMAS    NEWHALL.  145 

There  was  a  front  yard  to  Mr.  Newliall's  house, 
enclosed  by  a  fence  of  untrimmed  cedar  rails.  And  in 
that  garden  bloomed,  in  glorious  state,  divers  holly- 
hocks, marigolds,  and  sunflowers,  with  the  graceful 
pumpkin  vine  winding  among  them.  And  the  useful 
artichoke,  too,  sent  up  its  prim  spires.  Ambitious 
gourds,  also,  here  and  there  wound  fantastically  up 
the  friendly  shrubs,  ostentatiously  displaying  tlieir 
vulgar  fruit,  as  if  exulting  over  the  barren  maples  that' 
shaded  the  highway.  Skirting  along  the  fence,  were 
the  wild  rose  and  sweet-briar,  the  blue  blossoming 
nightshade  and  red  lily  of  the  wood,  all  shyly  approach- 
ing their  cultivated  kindred,  even  as  the  duskj^  maid 
of  the  forest  approached  her  pale  sister. 

This  beautiful  adjunct  was  well  cared  for.  And  it 
was  delightful  to  see  the  smart  little  Huldah  Arlington, 
the  adopted  daughter  of  Mr.  Newhall,  and  the  flower 
of  his  household,  on  a  bright  rosy  morning  working 
among  the  balmy  assemblage  with  watering  dipper 
and  wooden  spade,  her  glossy  hair  bound  up  by  rich 
wampum  strings,  the  gift  of  an  Indian  princess,  and 
her  bonny  face  radiant  with  health  and  intelligence. 
She  was  indeed  a  rare  maid ;  accomplished  in  all  the 
simple  household  duties  of  the  day ;  as  able  to  spin, 
bake,  brew  or  milk  as  any  dame  in  the  settlement. 

The  house  was  two  stories  in  front,  and  sloped  reg- 
ularly down  to  one,  in  the  rear.  And  the  whole  back 
part  was  devoted  to  kitchen  purposes,  including  con- 
veniences for  the  spinning-wheel  and  weaving-frame, 
for  canrlle  dipping,  soap  making,  and  cloth  dyeing.  It 
was  a  glorious  old  kitchen  for  all  domestic  purposes, 
and  a  riglit  jolly  place  for  the  noble  winter  game  of 
blindman's-buff.  It  was  one  of  the  very  first  houses 
built  in  that  style,  which,  being  so  convenient,  after- 
G  10 


14G  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

wards  became  quite  common.  True,  it  was  rather 
eas}'  for  the  mischievous  Indians,  who  were  always 
pla^n'ng-  pranks,  to  scale  the  roof.  And  it  is  said  that 
the  very  first  morning  after  Mr.  Newhall  took  up  his 
quarters  there,  he  was  astonished,  as  he  went  to  kindle 
a  fire  on  the  hearth  to  have  a  dead  rabbit  come  pounce 
upon  his  head ;  and  more  astonished  still,  on  running 
out,  to  discover  an  array  of  forest  dignitaries  seated 
along  the  ridge-pole,  gravely  snuffing  in  the  morning- 
air  and  expressing  their  approbation  of  the  prospect 
by  unearthly  grunts. 

The  large  kitchen  fire  place,  sufficient  to  accommo- 
date the  four  foot  logs  with  am{)le  room  to  spit  and 
snap  upon  the  ponderous  nndiron^^,  and  still  leave 
space  for  wooden  blocks  in  the  corners;  the  capacious 
oven  and  yawning  receptacle  for  the  rapidly  accumu- 
lating ashes;  the  ponderous  trammels  with  enormous 
iron  pots  depending;  the  great  dressers  adorned  with 
trenc])ers  and  wooden  bowls,  with  a  pewter  platter  or 
two  glistening  behind;  the  high-back  settle,  destined, 
perhaps,  to  receive  into  its  cosey  embrace  the  fairHul- 
dah  and  her  happy  lover,  before  the  radiant  fii'c,  safe 
from  the  jealous  blast  essaying  to  work  its  way  thiough 
some  undiscovered  crevice  ;  the  leather  covered  grand- 
sire-chair,  whose  hospitable  arms  would  be  capacious 
enough  to  embrace  the  same  lovers,  even  were  she 
encircled  by  the  nine-foot  crinoline  expanse  of  this 
our  day ;  the  long  table,  sustained  under  its  load  of 
wholesome  cheer,  by  its  innumerable  legs;  and  the 
old  family  portraits  all  in  painted  plaster;  —  these,  and 
many  other  luxurious  appliances  of  the  day  were  in  the 
noble  homestead  of  Farmer  Newhall. 

And  could  we  have  looked  in  upon  that  worthy  fam- 
ily as   they  were   assembled  on  some   winter   night, 


THOMAS   KEWHALL.  147 

we  should  surely  have  concluded  that  luxuries,  such 
as  are  most  zealously  striven  for  in  these  days,  are 
not  prerequisites  to  happiness.  There  was  the  manly 
form  of  the  household's  head,  his  countenance  browned 
b}'  toil,  but  beaming  with  benevolence;  his  hands 
rougli  as  the  ancient  oak,  but  always  pliant  to  grasp 
the  implement  of  useful  labor  and  relaxing  at  the  call 
of  charity.  What  if  he  did  wear  a  coarse  gray  round- 
about, greasy  leather  vest,  and  deer  skin  small-clothes? 
What  if  enormous  shoes  of  rough  hide,  ornamented 
witli  huge  iron  buckles  did  encase  feet  of  such  dimen- 
sions as  a  youthful  elephant  might  envy  ?  And  what  if, 
as  he  drew  off  his  old  striped  leggins,  he  did  reveal 
gray  stockings  that  had  Jong  been  accustomed  to  the 
friendly  offices  of  the  darning  needle?  —  He  was  a  man 
for  all  these. 

And  there  was  the  careful  matron  and  the  sweet 
Huldah  nestling  by  her  side,  the  same  ruddy  beams 
from  Iho  hearth  lighting  up  the  countenance  of  the  one, 
calm  and  contented  in  her  walk  beyond  the  agitating 
scenes  of  youth,  and  that  of  the  other,  flushed  in 
joyful  hope  on  entering  upon  those  eventful  scenes. 
There,  also,  sat  the  hired  man  and  the  sturdy  boys, 
happy  in  their  freedom  from  out-door  duties,  and  ea- 
gerly pursuing  their  simple  games. 

And  seeing  tliese,  who  would  not  have  felt  that  there 
was  a  hearth,  around  which  existed  true  happiness, 
though  it  were  composed  of  unshapely  stones  laid  in 
ungraceful  forms?  And  who  would  have  thouglit  that 
the  rough,  unplastered  walls,  or  the  little  windows  of 
diminutive  panes,  so  knotty,  wavy  and  coarse,  as  even 
in  full  sunshine  to  distort  every  object  abroad,  were 
comfortless  or  unseemly?  And  who,  finally,  would 
have  failed  to  realise  that  there  are  pictures  of  domes- 


148  KG TABLE  PEOPLE. 

tic  life,  always  beautiful,  however  mde  may  be  their 
setting? 

Mr.  Newhiill,  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  was  tlie  first 
person  hereabouts,  so  far  as  we  have  learned,  who 
undertook  to  raise  bees.  His  apiary  was  picturesquely 
situated  in  the  capacious  back  yard,  beneath  the  shelter 
of  a  large  tree,  which  also  threw  its  cooling  shade  upon 
the  corn  barn  and  a  part  of  the  swine's  quarters.  A 
rustic  seat,  erected  against  the  gnarled  trunk,  furnished 
a  convenient  place  for  such  visiters  and  idlers  as  had 
enough  curiosity  and  not  too  much  fear,  to  sit  and 
watch  the  proceedings  of  the  busy  and  buzzing  colony. 
And  at  the  same  time  their  ears  might  be  regaled  by 
the  music  of  the  cloven  footed  songsters  that  now 
and  then  erected  their  graceful  heads  above  the  pen 
and  gave  specimens  of  their  vocal  accomplishments, 
illustrating  their  own  appreciation  of  their  skill  by 
those  wonderful  whisks  and  twitches  of  the  caudal 
appendage,  that  no  creature  on  earth  but  a  pig  need 
ever  hope  to  compass.  The  bees  were  successful  in 
gathering  honey,  and  their  master  was  successful  in 
selling  it  after  robbing  their  hives.  The  heaviest  part 
of  the  burden  fell  on  the  workers;  as  is  usually  the 
case  in  this  unequal  world.  Mr.  Newhall  prospered  in 
this  enterprise  for  three  or  four  years.  The  honey 
became  quite  celebrated  for  its  purity  and  flavor;  per- 
haps because  so  much  of  it  was  drawn  from  the  flowers 
that  Huldah  cultivated.  And  at  that  time  the  vulgar 
notion  prevailed  that  bees  only  could  make  honey; 
it  being  left  to  more  modern  genius  to  discover  that 
it  can  be  produced  by  mixing  sugar  and  lard.  Bees, 
perhaps,  have  cause  to  rejoice  in  the  discovery,  so  far 
as  the  enjoyment  of  the  products  of  their  own  labor  is 
concerned.     But  they  have  equal  cause  to  lament  that 


THOMAS  NEWHALL.  149 

men  will  bo  guilty  of  unblnsliingly  putting  forth  such 
abominable  counterfeits  in  their  name. 

Mr.  Newhall's  experience  with  bees  came  to  an  end  in 
five  or  six  years.  As  the  worthy  farmer  was  one  day 
busy  in  his  garden,  bare  headed  and  with  his  shirt 
sleeves  rolled  up,  all  of  a  sudden  there  came  a  terrible 
buzzing  about  his  ears.  And  presently,  without  ask- 
ing leave,  an  immense  swarm  settled  right  down  upon 
his  head.  As  might  be  supposed,  his  terror  was  inde- 
scribable. And  losing  that  presence  of  mind  which  is 
under  all  circumstances  a  man's  best  safeguard,  he 
began  exercising  himself  in  a  manner  more  becoming 
a  maniac  than  a  rational  being.  The  bees,  not  fully 
comprehending  his  state  of  mind,  became  highly  in- 
censed and  began  to  show  their  anger  in  the  way  most 
natural  to  bees.  They  entirely  forgot  their  allegiance, 
and  resentment,  or  fun,  for  it  is  barely  possible  that 
they  might  have  had  the  latter  in  view,  became  the 
order  of  the  hour.  At  all  events,  the  good  man  came 
out  of  the  contest  blind,  smarting,  and  declaring  ven- 
geance. As  the  readiest  way  of  avoiding  another 
such  experience,  he  Avent  forth,  that  very  evening, 
armed  Avith  a  platter  of  burning  brimstone,  with  which 
he  forever  stifled  their  mischievous  spirit.  Afterwards, 
his  enterprise  began  to  develop  in  other  channels  of 
usefulness. 

One  favorite  object  with  Mr.  Newhall  was  the  build- 
ing of  roads ;  certainly  a  most  valuable  object  among 
new  settlements.  His  scene  of  action  lay  more  par- 
ticularly in  the  woods.  The  great  Dungeon  Way,  as 
it  was  anciently  called,  was  a  result  of  his  enterprise. 
And  Bonaparte  was  not  more  proud  of  the  Siraplon 
than  he  of  that.  It  traversed  the  swamps  and  wound 
over  the  hills,  and  reall/  was  a  work  of  great  labor ; 


150  KOTABLS   PEOPLE. 

and  thougli  rough  and  obstructed  by  rocks,  quag- 
mires and  stumps,  answered  a  good  purpose.  He  also 
worked  many  a  day  with  his  cattle  in  removing  ob- 
structions from  the  road  to  Salem,  which,  I'or  a  long 
time,  Avas  choked  by  boulders  and  charred  stumps. 
Some  of  the  roads,  too,  in  the  piincipal  parts  of  the 
settlement,  received  his  attention;  particularly  what 
are  now  Boston,  Federal,  Market  and  Nahant  streets 
of  Lynn.  He  was  a  man  extremely  well  fitted  for  the 
occasions  of  a  new  settlement,  possessing  good  judg- 
ment, without  the  slightest  fear  of  manual  labor. 

But  notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  Mr.  Newhall,  the 
roads  were  not  always  found  in  good  condition.  Other 
settlers  did  not  take  so  much  interest  as  he,  in  the 
the  matter;  and  he  often  in  vain  entreated  for  suitable 
pecuniary  appropriations.  By  the  records  of  the  Quar- 
terly Court,  June,  1G3D,  we  find  that  "Linn  v>ms  fined 
10s  for  their  bad  wayes."  It  is  hardly  probable  that 
this  refers  to  moral  Avays.  And  applying  it  to  the 
highways,  it  looks  a  little  as  if  he  had  given  the  town 
a  gentle  stirring  by  slily  making  complaint  to  the 
Court. 

Mr.  Newhall  was  a  man  of  capacious  mind.  But  his 
utterance  was  not  sufficient  for  his  ideas;  a  difficulty 
experienced  by  many.  A  full  head  and  full  flow  of 
words  are  seldom  found  in  one  person.  The  reason  is 
that  the  sluice  exhausts  the  fount.  But  he  often  had 
ideas  that  no  human  language  was  competent  to  ex- 
press; unless,  perhaps,  some  of  those  graceful  Lidian 
words  which  are  long  enough  to  fill  half  a  line,  might 
have  answered  the  purpose.  And  in  his  lingual  strug- 
gles he  is  represented  to  have  really  appeared  as  if 
his  thoughts  were  endeavoring  to  work  their  way 
through  such  learned  words  as  quttianatamunach, 


THOMAS    NEWHALL.  151 

kuk k G ta s s u t a ni o o  11  k,  n u  ta h q ii o n ta m o ii n n  o n o g, 
and  sagkompagunaiiiinean,  all  of  which  may  be 
found  in  Eliot's  first  translation  of  the  Lord's  Prayer. 
We  do  not  know  that  there  is  any  particular  lesson  to 
be  drawn  from  this  peculiarity  of  his,  though  it  may 
not  be  inappropriate  to  remark  that  many  people  who 
have  really  meritorious  ideas  have  such  an  infelicitous 
way  of  expressing  them  that  they  fail  to  secure  due 
credit.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  some,  by  felicity  of 
expression,  do  very  much  to  conceal  their  mental 
poverty.  This  may  be  observed  quite  as  often  in 
books  as  in  speech.  Voltaire  said  that  words  were 
means  by  Avhich  to  conceal  thoughts.  And  with  the 
artful  they  are  extremely  effectual  means.  A  little 
careful  practice  will  enable  one  to  use  words  with 
wonderful  skill  in  controverting  sentiments  that  his 
conduct  clearly  supports.  There  are  many,  however, 
with  heads  in  which  pure  wisdom  is  distilled,  so  very 
careless  in  managing  the  faucet,  that  most  of  the  virtue 
is  lost. 

There  is  certainly  more  damage  done  in  the  world 
by  speaking  than  by  silence.  It  is  veiy  often,  for 
instance,  that  a  politician  destroys  his  influence  and 
bars  his  success,  by  making  speeches,  even  such  as 
his  partisans  applaud.  Thei'o  is  a  silence,  bold  and 
stern,  that  overawes  and  scares;  and  a  silence,  quiet 
and  insinuating,  that  leads  captive.  Mr.  Newhall  had 
a  crooked  neighbor  who  well  knew  the  value  of  this 
negative  commodity.  He  had  many  selfish  ends  to 
answer,  but  was  never  known  to  press  his  claims  by 
rhetorical  persuasives.  And  he  has  been  known  to 
carry  a  point  at  town  meeting,  when  every  interest 
but  his  own  was  on  the  other  side,  by  simply  keeping 
bilence  J   accompanying,  the   silence,   to   be   sure,    by 


152  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

opportune  shakings  of  his  clenched  fist,  that  the  timid 
voters  might  be  certified  as  to  what  they  were  to 
expect  if"  they  had  the  hardihood  to  act  against  his 
interest.  And  if  we  recollect  aright  the  United  States 
Senate  was  considerably  disturbed,  a  few  years  since, 
by  the  attempt  of  a  member  to  control  some  movement 
by  a  similarly  unparliamentary  effort.  In  that  case, 
however,  there  was  no  fistial  display ;  the  honorable 
member,  to  use  a  popular  phrase,  only  looked  duggers. 
Some  men  attempt  to  influence  others  by  appeals  and 
assaults  directed  to  their  physical  nature  alone  ;  others 
direct  their  efforts  only  to  the  moral  nature.  But  the 
most  successful  are  those  who  take  judicious  cogni- 
sance of  both.  ■ 

One  excellent  habit  of  Mr.  Newhall  we  desire  most 
Btronglv  to  recommend.  And  that  was  the  habit  of 
making  a  note  of  every  thing  that  it  was  important  to 
recollect,  instead  of  relying  on  memory,  which  is  not' 
trustworthy  even  in  the  best  of  people.  And  it  is  a 
singular  fact  that  those  who  are  most  positive  in  their 
assertions  based  on  memory  alone,  aVe  generally  the 
most  unreliable.  Indeed,  positiveness,  in  most  people, 
is  only  a  way  of  fortifying  uncertainty  or  lying.  It  is 
a  great  blemish  in  a  historian  to  always  write  in  the 
positive  style.  Perhaps  the  most  serious  defect  of 
Macaulay  is  to  be  found  in  this  particular.  Our  Sub- 
ject, being  a  man  of  probity  and  rigid  carefulness, 
always  carried  a  crayon  wherewith  to  note  down  all 
engagements,  important  occurrences,  or  duties.  Anil 
the  wear  of  the  button-liole  from  which  it  depended 
showed  that  it  was  much  in  use.  It  would  be  inter- 
esting to  avail  ourselves  of  some  of  the  records  he 
piade,  in  bold  strokes,  such  as : 

"  Hunnie  com  to  Widdo  Alinn,  1  pownd  &  haff." 


THOMAS    NEWHALL.  153 

"Ponder  more  on  y°  godlie  discourse  of  M'"  Whiting 
touching'  siinctifi cation  ;  &  kerry  him  a  load  of  woode." 

"  Kicfct  y°  hoy  loe  into  y®  brooko  fibr  lyjng,  sayjng 
y*  Bridges  sliouh:!  haiie  iijs  ffor  corne  ett  by  cowe,  y" 
agr°m'  being  ijs.  Did  not  mean  to  kick  soe  harde. 
Sorry  ffor  y°  same." 

"  Git  M"^"  Dexter  putt  in  bilboes  ffor  prophane  talke, 
sayjng  dam  y°  cowe.     But  see  y°  minister  firste." 

"  Go  to  y^  tavern,  to-night,  &  iff  lohn  Olliver  is  tliere 
drounke  get  him  home.  Give  him  pep^'m*.  Take  no 
fiipp  while  there." 

"  Pray  ffor  raine." 

"  xVsk  M''  Whiting  his  mind  on  Indjan  damnation,  & 
ask  hira  if  siun  is  sinn  whether  or  no  —  be  itt  from  ig- 
norance or  hardnesse.  Praise  his  discourse  att  Good- 
man Hawkes  his  funerall." 

"Digg  stumpes,  blast  rockes,  fill  hollows  and  cutt 
bushes  in  Middle  Roade."     [Market  street.] 

"Tell  William  Turner  y*  he  cann  not  Iiaue  Huldah. 
Saw  him  in  y"-"  tavern  drinking  flipp." 

"  Pay  y*^  D"^  for  curing  feever.  Give  pork  &,  corne. 
Haff  peck,  or  pownd  each  visit." 

"'  Gather  harbes  ffor  wife  to  dry." 

"  Advise  M'^'  Dexter  to  eate  no  more  clamms  in 
Aug*  and  to  drink  no  more  blackberrie  punch." 

•"  Deal  with  boy  for  evill  speache.     Pray  for  him.  " 

"' Visit  Widdow  Johnson  and  kerry  meale  and  one 
of  Huldah's  pies.  Also  dow-nutts.  Feed  y*^  hungry. 
Give  drinke  to  y°  thirstie.  Not  fire  water.  Also 
kerry  towe  cloth  enow  ffor  short  gownd.  Some  of 
wife's  best.     Fight  the  Devill." 

"A  jagg  of  y^  mapil  woode  to  naybourc  Burton,  by 
sunn  downe,  2d  daie." 

"Strong  drinke  is  a  cuss.     Also  tobacka." 
G- 


154  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

But  we  must  forbear  mukiug  further  extracts^  and 
say  a  word  or  two  on  another  of  our  Subject's  char- 
acteristics. 

Mr.  Newliall  was  quite  a  philosopher,  and  reflected 
elaborately  on  the  great  purposes  of  lunnau  life,  and' 
the  events  and  providences  connected  witli  it.  Like 
all  persons  who  exercise  themselves  in  that  way,  lie 
sometimes  arrived  at  conclusions  decidedl}-  at  variance 
with  the  commonly  received  opinions  of  mankind.  One 
theory  that  he  held  to  with  prodigious  tenacity,  may, 
perhaps,  bo  called  the  theory  of  compensations.  He 
conceived  that  in  the  great  economy,  every  evil  was 
balanced  by  a  good;  that  for  every  tear  there  was  a 
smile;  for  every  birtli  a  death;  for  every  bitter  a  sweet; 
for  every  disease  a  remedy;  and  so  on.  Now  if  we  look 
to  a  grand  average  of  every  thing  in  creation,  perhaps 
this  view  is  not  so  untenable.  But  if  we  descend  to 
particulars,  probably  not  many  would  offer  their  own 
experience  in  support  of  it.  Nevertheless,  it  has  been 
declared  a  most  comfortii>g  truth  by  a  profound  moral 
philosopher  of  the  present  day.  Be  all  these  things, 
however,  as  they  may,  Mv.  Newhall  derived  much 
consolation  from  it,  and  diligently  employed  many  an 
hour  in  the  effort  to  search  out  the  compensatory 
good  for  the  evils  and  discomforts  that  beset  his  path. 
But  we  are  persuaded  that  if  as  he  left  the  world  he 
reviewed  the  matter,  he  must  have  concluded  that 
the  place  which  he  was  leaving  and  that  to  which  he 
was  going  have  their  interests  connected  in  such  a 
w^ay  that  things  cannot  be  entirely  squared  here. 

We  feel  compelled,  in  view  of  what  has  been  said 
of  the  direct  Newhall  line,  in  this  countrv,  to  at  least 
allude  to  collateral  lines  that  diverged  in  the  old 
world.     Very  eminent  and  illustrious  personages  havo 


THOMAS  NEWHALL.  155 

proceeded  fiom  sumo  of  these.  Among  others  might 
be  named  Archbishop  Tillotson,  Sir  William  Herschel 
and  Mrs.  Hemans ;  Gen.  Greene,  Hannah  Adams,  John 
C.  Calhoun  and  Mrs.  Madison.  And  we  camiot  avoid 
adding  that  a  sort  of  prescience  possesses  us,  strongly 
pressing  to  the  conclusion  that  but  few  more  years  are 
to  roll  away  before  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude  will 
ascend  from  the  direct  line.  And  we  trust  that  the 
soil  of  the  good  old  Third  Plantation,  on  which  so  many 
Newhalls,  descendants  of  our  Subject,  still  continue  to 
reside,  will  be  the  favored  place  of  ascent. 

Almost  any  one  who  takes  a  retrospective  glance, 
when  about  to  quit  the  world,  probably  perceives  that 
his  life  has  been  one  of  cxpeiiments  rather  than  results  ; 
and  that  he  has  been  inconsistent  in  *all  his  ways.  It 
has  been  said  that  anxiety  to  appear  consistent  is  evi- 
dence of  a  little  mind;  a  great  soul  having  nothing  to 
do  with  such  a  commodity.  But  if  the  inconsistent 
were  always  great,  where  should  we  look  for  the  small? 
It  ma}',  indeed,  be  true  that  to  cramp  one's  self  for  the 
mere  purpose  of  appearing  consistent,  is  like  taking 
concern  for  a  shadow ;  but  it  is  also  true  that  every 
one  realizes  the  unsafety  of  relying  on  a  weathercock. 
While,  therefore,  truth  and  right  principle  should  never 
be  forced  to  yield  to  mere  consistency,  it  becomes  us 
to  be  most  careful  not  to  stray  into  paths  that  truth 
and  right  principle  may  require  us  to  abandon. 

And  this  leads  us  to  remark  that  if  there  was  any 
thing  for  whicli  Mr.  Newhall  strove,  through  life,  with 
most  meritorious  consistency  and  unwavering  constan- 
cy, it  was  to  be  in  the  right  way  in  all  his  walks.  Ho 
was  extremely  careful,  in  the  most  trivial  as  well  as 
important  matters,  to  have  his  face  set  aright  before 
ho  went  a-head.     By  such  a  course,  though  he  gained 


15G  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

the  reputation,  among  the  impetuous,  of  moving-  slowly, 
he  yet  moved  surely.  And  he  secured  a  very  enviable 
reputation ;  one  which  gave  him  a  commanding  influ- 
ence. 

And  how  great  is  the  benefit  of  such  an  example  to 
any  community.  Most  men,  being  too  indolent  to 
reflect,  submissively  follow  the  lead  of  others.  They 
do  not  proceed  on  principles  of  their  own,  and  take 
too  little  care  about  the  right  or  wrong  of  the  course 
of  their  exemplars.  Could  such  be  induced  always  to 
follow  the  lead  of  one  like  Mr.  Newhall,  they  might 
be  safe.  Still,  those  who  are  good  from  imitation 
rather  than  principle,  may  not  be  entitled  to  the  high- 
est ultimate  reward. 

This  propensity  to  blindly  follow  a  leader  we  find 
developed  among  men  as  prominently  as  among  sheep. 
It  is  so  in  matters  of  the  highest  interest  as  well  as  the 
more  common.  Do  Ave  not  find  it  in  melancholy  pro- 
minence even  in  religion?  Who,  in  short,  is  disposed 
for  a  moment  to  dispute  that  the  great  bulk  of  mankind 
constantly  act  from  habit  or  imitation  rather  than  prin- 
ciple ? 

These  few  concluding  reflections  began  with  the 
intimation  that  the  lives  of  most  men  were  rather  lives 
of  experiments  than  results.  But,  turning  to  our 
worth}^  Subject,  we  are  gratified  by  the  sight  of  one 
who  diirerod  widely  from  most  men  in  this  respect. 
His  life  was  rather  one  of  results  than  experiments. 
And  have  Ave  not  named  such  good  results  of  his 
earthly  labors  as  will  render  his  name  more  enduring 
than  Avould  a  shaft  of  lying  marble,  as  tall  as  Pompey's 
Pillar  ? 


OLIVER    PURCHIS. 

"  He  f  line  would  plant  faire  Libertie 

her  flag  vpon  this  soyl ; 
And  manie,  manie  hours  did  he 

iu  her  good  service  toyl." 

Amoxg  the  notables  Avho  appeared  in  the  Third 
Plantation  at  an  early  day  was  Oliver  Pnrchis  We 
find  by  the  Colony  Records  that  he  was  admitted  a 
freeman  in  1G3G.  He  was  born  in  1613,  and  appeared 
here  while  quite  a  young  man.  But  it  is  not  necessary 
for  us  to  say  much  of  his  early  life.  Perhaps  it  is  as 
well  to  go  no  farther  back  than  the  year  1660,  at  which 
time  he  was  first  chosen  Deputy,  or  Representative,  to 
the  General  Court.  He  was  then  in  the  vigor  of  man- 
hood, being  forty-seven  years  of  age. 

The  first  few  days  of  Mr.  Purchis's  experience  in 
the  hall  of  legislation,  brought  under  his  notice  several 
abuses,  as  he  deemed  them ;  and  he  forthwith  set 
about  regulating  public  opinion,  preparatory  to  re- 
forming them.  He  began  by  circulating  small  printed 
leaves  —  for  his  missives  were  not  entitled  to  the  dig- 
nified name  of  pamphlets  —  among  those  who  could 
not  enjoy  the  blessed  privilege  of  being  within  the 
sound  of  his  voice;  much  as  members  of  Congress  now 
do  with  their  speeches,  though  under  the  disadvantage 
of  not  being  able  to  saddle  the  expense  of  the  circula- 
tion on  the  countrv,  through  the  franking  privilege. 

(157) 


158  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

The  first  reformtitory  attempt  of  Mr.  Purcliis  was 
to  abolish  corporeal  punisiiment  in  Harvard  College. 
It  may  not  bo  generally  known,  at  this  day,  that  delin- 
quent students  there  were  sometimes  most  unmerci- 
fully flao'ellated.  He  insisted  that  if  the  custom  were 
not  abolished,  all  the  manliness  would  be  finally  Avhip- 
ped  out  of  the  colony.  For  little  children,  he  said,  it 
might  do;  but  for  those  old  enough  to  realise  the  im- 
portance of  learning,  every  blow  was  more  damaging 
to  the  spirit  than  the  back.  He  urged  his  points  with 
strong  arguments  and  grotesque  diction,  qualities  that 
will  draw  attention  to  any  writing,  'But  his  success 
was  not  equal  to  his  zeal.  Many  years  lolled  away 
before  the  walls  of  old  Harvard  ceased  to  echo  back 
the  screams  of  students  under  the  raw-hide- dispensa- 
tions. Yet  he  had  tlie  satisfaction  of  receiving  a  vote 
of  thanks  from  those  then  exposed  to  the  evil;  though 
that  very  vote,  he  afterwards  learned,  with  sorrow, 
was  the  occasion  of  more  pitiless  whlpphigs  than  had 
taken  place  for  a  twelve  month  before.  Luck}''  it  was 
that  the  day  of  presentations  had  not  arrived  ;  for  had 
the  poor  students  been  guilty  of  such  an  indiscreet 
manifestation  of  their  gratitude  as  to  have  presented 
him  with  a  shiny  pewter  tankard,  a  handsome  hour-glass 
or  a  glistening  brass  candlestick,  the  enraged  professors 
would  surely  have  broken  their  backs. 

In  1G8G,  Mr.  Purchis  was  chosen  Town  Clerk.  And 
from  Ihnt  time  we  find  him  quite  conspicuous  in  public 
life.  And  his  character  and  position  at  that  period, 
60  far  as  we  are  able  to  delineate  them  from  the  mate- 
rials at  hand,  may  be  briefly  stated  in  this  wise:  Though 
a  warm  politician,  he  was  respected  by  his  neighbors; 
a  phenomenon  that  can  only  be  accounted  for  by  sup- 
posing him  possessed    of  some   overawing  traits   of 


OLIVER   PURCHIS.  159 

greatness.  In  bis  domestic  relations  he  was  provident, 
pleasant  and  generous,  though  in  public  life  exacting, 
enthusiastic  and  stubborn  ;  characteristics,  by  the  way, 
not  uncommonly  meeting  in  the  same  individual,  anom- 
alous as  it  may  seem.  His  bright  hazel  eyes,  as  occa- 
sion demnncled,  were  suffused  with  tears  of  pity  for 
the  suffering  and  forlorn,  or  flashing  with  indignation 
on  the  oppressive  and  uncharitable.  His  sinewy  arm 
was  bared  to  protect  the  weak  and  to  thrust  the  un- 
worthy from  the  seat  of  power.  And  to  crown  all,  he 
was  deeply  pious  and  very  judicious  in  his  zealous 
efforts  to.  promote  the  cause  of  religion. 

In  1G88,  Mr.  Purchis  received  a- grievous  mutilation 
of  the  left  ear.  And  that  organ  was  never  restored  to 
its  original  comeliness,  though  its  usefulness  was  not 
greatly  impaired.  In  its  mutilated  condition  it  went 
with  him  when  lie  removed  to  Concord,  in  1G91.  And 
when  he  went  down  to  his  peaceful  grave  in  1701,  it 
was  siill  with  him,  a  memento  of  iiis  patriotic  strife. 
The  reader  may  desire  to  know  how  the  injury  occur- 
red. And  as  it  was  in  some  sense  connected  with 
important  political  events,  it  may  be  useful  to  alight 
on  the  year  1G82. 

It  was  at  that  time,  as  the  reader  is  well  aware, 
that  serious  complaints  were  made  in  England  against 
the  colonial  governments.  Some  were  jealous  of  the 
prosperity  of  the  settlers  ;  some  had  been  unsuccessful 
aspirants  for  colonial  honors ;  and  so,  among  these 
and  all  enemies  of  the  Charters  enough  was  trumped 
up  to  obtain  a  hearing. 

In  June,  1G83,  Edward  Randolph,  then  public  accuser, 
exhibited  against  the  Governor  and  Company  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, articles  of  high  misdemeanor;  whei-eupou 
an  inquiry  was  instituted. 


160  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

At  the  opening  of  the  General  Court  called  to  sit  in 
Boston,  November  7,  1683,  the  Governor  gave  notice 
that  since  the  last  sitting  of  the  Court,  Edward  Ran- 
dolph had  arrived,  "  &  had  presented  hiui  wth  his' 
maj*jes  declaration  &  proclamation,  wth  the  quo  war- 
ranto y'  was  isued  out  ag*^  the  Gouno^  &  Company,  <fec." 

The  King's  proclamation  graciously  stated,  among 
other  things,  that  though  a  "  writ  of  quo  warranto 
against  the  charter  and  priuiledgos  claymed  by  the 
Gouno''  and  Company  of  Massachusetts  Bay  in  New 
England,  by  reason  of  some  crjmes  and  misdemeano'"3 
by  tliem  comitted,"  had  been  issued,  yet  pi'ivate  inter- 
ests were  not  to  be.  damaged;  and  if  belbre  further 
prosecution  upon  the  quo  warranto  they  would  render 
"full  submission  &  entire  resignation"  lo  the  royal 
pleasure,  the  Charter  might  be  continued,  v,'ith  altera- 
tions for  such  and  such  purposes.  And  various  other 
pleasant  things  did  the  Merry  Monarch  say  to  the 
misdemeani ng  colonists. 

These  proceedings  induced  the  colonists  to  look 
about  them  with  very  sharp  eyes.  Incroaso  Mather, 
that  great  father  in  the  New  England  Israel,  declared 
that  it  was  a  plot  to  make  shipwreck  of  their  liberties; 
and  the  country,  by  compl3nng,  would  act  neither  the 
part  of  good  Christians  nor  true  Englishmen. 

Things  did  not  take  a  more  favorable  turn  that  year. 
And  at  Trinity  Term,  1684,  the  Higli  Court  of  Chan- 
cery gave  judgment  against  the  Massachusetts  Gov- 
ernment and  Compan}-,  *-  that  their  letters  patent  and 
the  enrolment  thereof  be  cancelled."  So  died  the 
Charter  which  had  weathered  so  many  storms  and 
become  so  dear  to  the  hearts  of  the  people. 

At  this  juncture,  February,  1685,  Charles  himself 
was  summoned  under  a  quo  warranto  from  the  High 


OLIVER   PURCHIS.  IGl 

Court  of  Chancery  above,  by  the  grim  messenger 
Death.  And  the  next  April,  James  II.  was  proclaimed 
at  Boston.  The  Charter  having  been  annulled,  it  be- 
came apparent  that  something  must  speedily  be  done 
for  the  poor  colonists.  So  in  the  same  year,  Joseph 
Dudley  was  appointed  President  of  the  Bay  Colon}-, 
with  authority  to  administer  the  government  much 
after  the  old  i'ashion,  though  without  a  revival  of  the 
Charter.  'J'his  temporary  government  existed  ibr  a 
few  months.  And  then  came  a  stirring  period  in 
colonial  political  history. 

Massachusetts  was  not  alone  in  her  hard  fate.  Other 
colonies  had  been  served  much  in  the  same  way.  And 
thus  stood  the  governments  when  in  1G8G  the  notori- 
ous Sir  Edmond  Andros  was  commissioned  for  the 
arbitrary  government  of  New  York  and  New  England. 
The  infliction  of  such  a  government  naturally  created  a 
great  ferment. 

The  neat  little  piece  of  legerdemain  that  was  prac- 
ticed when  Andros  went  to  Hartford  to  recei\e  the 
Connecticut  Charter  was  very  amusing  to  the  world. 
The  Assembly  was  in  session.  The  discussion  had 
been  protracted,  for  Governor  Treat  had  been  talking 
against  time,  in  the  forlorn  hope,  perhaps,  that  a  favor- 
ing Providence  would  in  some  way  interpose  at  the 
last  moment.  The  precious  document  had  already 
been  brought  forth  ;  and  there  it  lay  upon  the  old 
oak  table  looking  up  from  its  winding-sheet  of  green 
baize  with  becoming  resignation. 

Night  had  shut  in,  the  candles  were  lighted,  and  it 
appeared  as  if  preparations  were  made  for  holding  a 
wake.  The  final  moment  for  the  yielding  up  of  the 
charter  ghost  seemed  to  ha\-e  arrived.  Then,  presto  1 
outwent  all  the  lights!     With  the  greatest  possible 

11 


162  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

speed  tliey  were  velig-lited.  But  gas  —  we  mean  the 
illuminntiiig  material  made  from  coal,  not  such  as 
proceeds  from  the  human  head  —  and  I'riction  matches 
not  being  then  in  use,  a  little  more  time  was  required 
than  now  would  be  for  the  same  performance.  And 
when  tlie  hall  was  again  radiant  with  the  beams  of 
tallow-dips,  behold,  no  Cliarter  was  to  be  found.  It 
had  escaped  in  some  mysterious  manner.  Sir  Edniond 
twitched  up  the  green  baize;  it  was  not  under  the 
table.  He  gazed  up  to  the  ceiling;  it  was  not  flying 
about  tliore.  Governor  Treat  gaped  and  rubbed  his 
knee  buckles  with  the  palms  of  his  hands.  The  Secre- 
tary |)uckered  his  mouth  as  if  he  had  just  bitten  a  crab 
apple,  and  looked  bewildered. 

But  all  these  did  not  bring  back  the  Cliarter  nor 
discover  its  hiding  place.  And  the  chagrined  Andros 
was  obliged  to  close  his  eyes  that  night  unblessed  by 
a  sight  of  it.  Nor  did  he  ever  see  it  again.  He  how- 
ever took  formal  possession  of  the  governmont,  and 
annexed  it  to  Massachusetts.  But,  strange  as  it  may 
appear,  the  little  joker  afterwards,  and  just  when  it 
was  most  wanted  to  save  the  interests  of  the  Connect- 
icut people,  turned  out,  safe  and  sound,  from  the  hol- 
low of  an  old  oak.  Its  long  sleep  hfid  been  refreshing, 
and  it  came  forth  with  renewed  energy.  And  that 
tree  became  much  venerated  in  after  years,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  protection  it  had  thus  afforded  to  the 
fugitive  Charter. 

The  Charter  Oak  weathered  all  the  storms  and  revo- 
lutions even  down  to  1856,  when  it  yielded  to  the 
irreverent  blast.  After  its  prostration  it  afforded  ma- 
terial enough  for  more  canes  than  would  lie  needed  in 
giving  every  rogue  in  Christendom  a  ciinins^  that  the 
most  sanguinary  pedagogue  now  in  Connecticut  would 


OLIVER   PURCHIS.  103 

quiver  to  behold ;  or,  had  not  the  halcyon  days  of 
snnfF  taking  gone  by,  to  have  made  snuff-boxes  enough 
to  hold  material  sufficient  for  sneezing  off  the  head 
of  every  man,  woman  and  child  in  the  land.  Indeed  it 
possessed,  in  no  small  degree,  the  extraordinary  pro- 
perty of  the  famed  pilgrim  ship  May  Flower.  And 
blessed  was  the  Providence  that  so  endowed  that  fa- 
vored ship,  for  without  her  wonderful  endowment, 
she  never  could  have  brought  over,  on  her  renowned 
voyage,  an  amount  of  trumpery  that  would  have  loaded 
down  half  the  British  navy. 

It  was  after  the  accession  of  William  and  Mary,  and 
the  expulsion  of  Andros,  that  the  Connecticut  Charter 
came  out  so  bright  from  the  old  oak.  Leading  English 
Iaw3'ers  gave  opinions  that  the  colony  had  not  sur- 
rendered her  Charter;  and  as  there  was  no  judgment 
annulling  it  on  record,  it  was  not  vacated.  So  the  old 
government  was  continued.  No  judgment  on  record? 
It  V7a3  oven  so.  But  how  there  happens  to  be  a  hi^ius 
in  the  English  State  Records  just  about  where  a  judg- 
ment would  have  been  recorded,  none  can  tell,  though 
all  can  imagine.  Connecticut  generally  seemed  moro 
successful  in  her  political  moves  than  her  sister  colo- 
nies. She  appeared  to  be  a  sort  of  pet  child.  Perhaps, 
she  had  some  friend  at  court  more  powerful  than  they; 
or  perhaps  the  extraordinary  power  of  her  soil  to 
supply  a  certain  tropical  production,  much  used  in 
spicing  flip,  had  begun  to  develop  itself,  raising  hopes 
that  something  still  more  valuable  might  spring  from 
her  wonderful  bosom. 

To  go  back  a  little.  Andros,  when  he  arrived  at 
Boston,  in  1686,  had  with  him  a  squad  of  soldiers,  to 
enable  him  to  enforce  his  measures.  The  number, 
however,  v?as  too   small  to  create  much  fear.     The 


164  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

professions  of  the  new  ruler  were  at  first  kind,  and 
in  his  intercourse  he  was  affable  and  cnnciliatory. 
These  things,  liowever,  had  but  little  weight  with  tho 
colonists,  as  they  could  not  keep  out  of  view  the  extent 
of  his  powers  and  the  disabihties  and  inconveniences 
they  labored  under  from  the  loss  of  their  charters. 
Perhaps  their  feelings  prompted  them  to  meet  Andros 
in  an  antagonistic  attitude  and  to  treat  his  advances 
in  a  manner  calculated  to  aggravate  his  sensibilities; 
for  he  certainly  was  not  altogether  a  savage  as  somo 
appear  to  imagine. 

Andros  soon  declared  that  the  vacating  of  the  Colo- 
nial Charters  annulled  real  estate  titles ;  and  that  an 
Indian  deed  was  no  better  than  the  scratch  of  a  bear's 
paw.  If  he  had  limited  his  meaning  to  meie  looks, 
not  many  would  have  dissented  from  him.  But  when 
he  insinuated  that  a  bear's  title  was  as  good  as  an 
Indian's  he  was  shamefully  wrong.  The  people  wero 
required  to  take  out  new  titles  or  grants.  And  for 
these,  enormous  fees  were  demanded.  This  proceed- 
ing created  much  excitement. 

Andros  also  imposed  serious  restraints  upon  tho 
press.  Newspapers,  it  is  true,  were  hardly  known  in 
the  world  at  that  time.  There  were  none  in  America. 
The  first  one  here,  the  Boston  News  Letter,  did  not 
come  into  existence  till  April  24,  1704.  But  littlo 
pamphlets  and  circulars  were  vehicles  of  thought; 
and  the  restraints  were  viewed  as  a  great  grievance, 
for  peopjle  much  love  to  behold  their  wise  thoughts 
in  print.  And  that  love  is  not  always  to  be  deprecated. 
If  the  reader  suspects  that  even  tiie  book  now  in  his 
hand  was  conceived  in  somo  such  spirit,  Ave  shall  not 
attempt  to  combat  his  innocent  suspicion. 

Sir  Edmond  also  interfered  to  somo  extent  with  tho 


OLIVER  PDRcms.  165 

religious  observances;  among  other  things,  prohibiting 
public  Thanksgiving  Avilhout  a  royal  order.  This  was 
certainly  touching  our  fathers  in  a  tender  point.  And 
besides  tiie  loss  of  the  gastronomic  gratifications  at- 
tending the  loved  New  England  institution,  the  absurd- 
ity of  denying  men  the  privilege  of  giving  thanks  to 
God  at  any  time  they  might  desire,  was  well  calculated 
to  excite  minds  disciplined  as  were  those  in  this  reli- 
gious domain  ;  particularly  as  there  can  be  but  remote 
danger  that  people  will  ever  be  too  forward  in  ofiering 
thanks  to  their  divine  Benefactor. 

This  brings  to  mind  a  proposition  made  at  one  of 
the  religious  anniversary  meetings  at  Boston,  in  1859. 
It  was,  to  commence  efforts  for  the  discontinuance  of 
our  good  old  annual  Thanksgiving.  But  it  grated  hard; 
for  people  venerate  institutions  that  were  dear  to  their 
fathers  ;  especially  when  they  bring  luscious  banquets 
to  their  own  tables.  And  the  old  "Election,"  which 
was  abolished  in  1830,  after  having  given  joy  to  young 
and  old  hearts  for  about  two  hundred  3'ears,  had  hardly, 
as  it  were,  ceased  to  be  wept  over.  The  reason  given 
for  the  desire  to  discontinue  Thanksgiving  was  that  it 
had  come  to  be  loosely  observed.  But  to  abolish  it  for 
that  would  seem  to  be  a  weakness.  Why  not  abolish 
Sunday,  for  the  same  reason?  Rather,  why  not  endea- 
vor to  restore  the  old  way? 

This  leads  us  to  remind  the  reader  that  the  Puritans 
here,  early  undertook  to  abolish  the  observance  of 
Christmas.  In  1G51  an  act  was  passed,  ordeiing  tliat 
"  whoever  shall  be  found  observing  any  such  day  as 
Christmas  or  the  like,  either  by  forbearing  labor,  feast- 
ing, or  any  other  way  upon  any  such  account  as 
aforesaid,  every  such  person  so  offending  shall  pay  for 
every  such  cffence  five  shillings  as  a  fine  to  the  coun- 


16G  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

ty."  The  pretence  was  to  get  rid  of  the  evils  attending 
the  observance ;  but  it  has  been  thought  that  the  real 
object  was  to  show  spite  towards  the  English  church, 
which 'regarded  that  day  as  the  most  note  worthy  iii 
the  whole  calendar.  The  Puritans  made  many  such 
laws  and  were  fond  of  attacliing  to  them  an  array  of 
whereases,  which  often  raised  a  fog;  though  through 
it  the  real  purpose  might  sometimes  be  readily  dis- 
cerned. One  should  always  beware  of  whereases, 
however.  There  is  mischief  in  the  mist ;  excepting, 
perhaps,  when  they  lead  off  in  a  mittimus.  In  that 
case  it  is  sufficiently  plain  what  they  point  to.  At  all 
events  there  is  one  close  at  hand  to  explain. 

Under  the  better  spirit  of  the  present  age  Christmas 
has  come  to  be  quite  generally  observed  by  most 
denominations.  And  the  Massachusetts  Legislature  in 
1856  passed  a  law  establishing  it  as  a  holiday,  whereon 
the  General  Court  and  the  courts  of  law  should  not 
sit,  and  the  public  offices  should  be  closed. 

Various  oppressive  burdens  besides  those  namedj 
were  imposed,  and  irrational  requisitions  made,  by  the 
Andros  government,  to  which  it  is  not  necessary  for 
our  purpose,  to  allude.  And  numerous  were  the  im- 
prisonments made  of  those  who  refused  to  comply 
with  the  tyrannical  demands.  Perhaps,  however,  no- 
thing that  the  new  Governor  did,  created  such  deter- 
mined opposition  as  the  ground  he  took  in  regard  to 
real  estate  titles.  This  touched  the  colonists  in  their 
homes  and  their  pockets.  On  principles  they  might 
not  have  been  so  inflamed. 

And  this  brings  us  back  to  Mr.  Purchis  —  or  Pur- 
chase, or  Purchiss,  as  it  is  variously  spelled  on  the 
Colony  Records  —  with  his  mutilated  ear. 

Edward  Randolph,  before  named,  who  was  now  Sec- 


OLIVER   PURCHIS.  167 

retary  to  Andros,  having-  a  little  spare  time,  set  about 
looking  up  a  pleasant  spot  whereon,  perhaps,  to  locate. 
And  presently  his  beautiful  light  gray  eyes  Aveie  fixed 
admiringly  on  Nahant.  This  is  sufficient  Evidence 
that  he  was  a  man  of  taste ;  but  unfortunately  men  of 
taste  are  not  always  men  of  principle.  He  spent  a 
day  in  pleasant  rambles  on  the  peninsula,  with  sundry 
dignitaries  of  the  town.  He  feasted  his  eyes  upon  the 
charming  views  and  his  palate  on  the  piscatory  ban- 
quet libei'ally  spread  upon  the  rocks,  under  the  careful 
episcopy  of  Mr.  Purchis,  in  the  vicinity  of  Cold  Spring. 
He  quaffed  the  invigorating  breeze,  and,  with  a  little 
stimulating  addition,  the  equally  invigorating  waters 
of  the  spring. 

But  it  turned  out  that  from  quaffing  one  or  the 
other,  Mr.  Randolph,  during  the  afternoon,  became  a 
little  jolly,  as  they  used  to  say.  Perhaps  it  was  the 
delightful  air  that  so  exhilerated  him.  Any  wav.  he 
became  quite  antic,  and  talked  and  acted  in  a  manner 
more  comical  than  becoming  in  one  who  had  held  the 
high  office  of  Public  Accuser,  in  England.  Presently  he 
insisted  that  Mr.  Purchis  should  dance  with  him,  on  a 
flat  rock,  to  which  he  pointed,  in  very  dangerous  prox- 
imity to  the  sea.  Now  Mr.  Purchis  would  as  soon 
have  thought  of  hanging  himself  as  dancing,  at  any 
time.  And  the  probability  of  losing  his  life  would 
have  been  no  greater  under  the  process  of  hanging, 
than  under  terpsicborean  exercises  in  a  place  so  dan- 
gerous. He  promptly  made  known  to  the  Secretary 
his  entire  unwillingness  to  engage  in  any  such  per- 
formance. This  caused  the  wind  to  instantly  veer  with 
the  merry  official.  He  now  insisted  upon  having  a 
fight  with  Mr.  Purchis;  and  divested  himself  of  his 
outer  garment  in  preparation.     But  fighting  was  quite 


168  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

as  little  to  the  taste  of  our  Subject  as  dancing;  and 
he  peremptorily  declined  the  challenge.  This  so  in- 
flamed the  impatient  champion  that  he  declared  his 
determmation  to  whip  somebody,  before  he  resumed 
his  coat. 

Witliont  uttering  another  word,  Randolph  made  a 
pass  at  Mr.  Purchis,  which,  had  it  fulfilled  its  design, 
might  have  rendered  it  necessary  for  the  town  to 
choose  a  new  Cleik.  But  as  it  was,  the  wary  man  just 
stepped  aside,  and  away  went  Randolph  over  the  cliff 
into  the  sea.  The  whole  company  instantly  rushed 
down  to  the  rocks  that  jutted  into  the  surge,  and  did 
their  utmost  to  save  him,  A  repentant  wave,  v/hich 
had  borne  him  a  short  distance  into  the  offinii:  imme- 
diately  on  his  descent,  and  there  amused  itself  with 
his  stuggles,  presently  thought  best  to  bear  him  back 
for  a  gentle  chafing  against  the  rocks.  And  while  ho 
was  undergoing  that  discipline,  they  were  able  to  seize 
him  by  his  floating  hair  and  thus  disappoint  the  sea 
of  its  prey. 

And  we  cannot  avoid  the  reflection  that  had  not  Mr. 
Purchis  and  his  companions  been  so  fortunate  as  to 
rescue  Randtolph,  the  whole  course  of  political  events 
in  New  England  and  New  York  would  probably  have 
been  changed  ;  for  it  is  evident  that  he  was  to  Andros 
a  sort  of  evil  right  hand. 

Randolph  came  from  his  experience  in  the  deep  but 
little  bruised,  and  on  the  whole  rather  refreshed.  He 
was  very  cordial  in  his  expressions  of  gratitude  for  the 
deliverance.  And  they  were  surprised  at  his  sobriety 
and  good  manners  during  the  rest  of  their  stay. 

But  how  astonished  were  the  entertainers  of  Mr. 
R:\ndolph,  soon  after,  to  learn  that  he  had  petitioned 
Andros  to  grant  the  whole  of  Nahaut  to  him.     This 


OLIVER   PURCHIS.  169 

was  repaying'  their  kind  attentions  witli  a  vengeance. 
Tlie  matter  immediately  assumed  a  veiy  serious  aspect, 
as  it  became  apparent  that  Andros  viewed  the  petition 
with  favor.  The  town  was  notified,  and  informed  that 
tliey  could  have  a  hearing.  This  was  in  1G88.  A 
town  meeting  was  forthwitli  held  and  a  committee 
chosen  to  act  in  the  strait.  One  of  the  committee  was 
Mr.  Piirchis  :  and  a  better  man  could  not  have  been 
selected.  At  this  time,  as  before  intimated,  he  was 
Town  Clerk. 

The  whole  population  became  excited.  There  was 
much  more  scolding,  and,  we  fear,  swearing,  than  there 
was  during  the  great  Shoemakers'  Strike  in  1860.  Mr. 
Shepard,  the  minister,  entered  zealously  into  the  affair, 
as  well  in  tho  pulpit  as  out.  He  even  appears  to  have 
assumed  a  sort  of  leadership;  but  for  such  a  position 
it  occurs  to  us  he  was  not  well  fitted.  Calm  perse- 
verance would  be  far  better  in  such  an  emergency  than 
rampant  zeal. 

During  the  excitement  Mr.  Randolph  rode  out  to 
Lynn,  bringing  various  letters  in  his  pocket  and  a 
smile  on  his  countenance.  After  parleying  and  pass- 
ing comph'nients  for  an  hour  or  two,  it  was  •determined 
to  hold  a  meeting,  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Purchis,  that 
very  afternoon,  to  talk  over  matters.  And  by  the  time 
appointed,  some  half  a  dozen  of  tho  principal  men  had 
assembled. 

RandoI[)h  had  now  delivered  all  his  letters  and  dis- 
pensed with  his  smile.  And  furthermore,  he  appeared 
impatient  and  assuming  at  the  meeting.  Perhaps  he 
mistook  that  as  the  best  aspect  under  which  to  open 
the  talk.  For  an  hour  or  more  he  was  the  talker 
and  they  were  the  thinkers ;  that  is,  if  silence  is  evi- 
dence of  thought;  it  certaiidy  being  the  only  evidence 
H 


itd  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

we  have,  in  mnny  grave  cases.  We  know  lliat  what 
Mr.  Calhoun  denominated  a  masterly  inactivit}-,  oi'tcn 
accomplishes  a  great  deal.  And  so  does  a  masterly 
silence.  But  yet  people  are  sometimes  inactive  from 
natural  indolence,  and  silent  from  mental  penuiy.  So 
a  judgment  resting  on  such  ground  may  not  always  be 
sure. 

Randolph  soon  had  the  mortification  to  discover 
that  his  eloquence,  instead  of  falling  like  a  shower  of 
millstones  on  their  heads,  was  more  like  a  shower  of 
feathers  falling  on  millstones.  They  would  assent  to 
nothing  proposed  by  him,  and  were  as  immovable  as 
the  rocks  on  which  they  had  eaten  their  chowder  at 
Nahant.  And  veiy  naturally  his  anger  began  to  kindle. 
Presently  he  so  far  forgot  himself  as  to  hurl  epithets 
of  a  quality  by  no  means  the  most  select  at  the  heads 
of  those  around  him.  Mr.  Purchis  was  astounded  by 
a  terrific  one  directed  at  him.  And  its  fliglit  taking 
place  in  his  own  house,  his  own  castle,  he  ielt  called 
upon  to  assume  a  clearly  defined  position  ;  for  having 
once  heard  Mr.  Shepard  read  Magna  Charta,  in  Latin, 
he  felt  his  individuality,  his  rights  and  his  responsi- 
bilities.       • 

The  others,  still  preserving  their  masterly  silence, 
Mr.  Purchis,  after  fidgeting  a  little,  got  upon  his  feet, 
and  when  fairly  poised,  with  his  throat  cleared  and  his 
nose  wiped,  he  opened  a  battery  on  poor  Randolph, 
who  stood  upon  the  other  side  of  the  ten-legged  table, 
that,  to  use  a  very  vulgar  expression,  made  the  feath- 
ers fly.  His  arguments  and  denunciations  fell  upon 
that  partially  bald  head  like  so  many  fifty-sixes.  The 
Secretary  was  in  his  turn  astounded.  He  did  not  know 
what  to  make  of  it.  He  threw  up  his  chin,  puckered 
his  mouth,  grasped  his  left  arm  as  if  a  shot  had  struck 


OLIVER   PURCHIS.  171 

it,  and  in  various  ways  manifested  great  perturbation. 
But  the  storm  did  not  abate. 

Presently  Mr.  Purcliis  surprised  himself  as  well  as 
all  the  others  by  a  furious  launch  at  the  great  Sir 
Edmond.  This  afforded  a  propitious  opportunity  for 
Randolph  greatly  to  magnify  himself  in  the  eyes  of 
his  absent  superior.  To  defend  an  absent  friend  is 
always  an  act  worthy  of  gratitude.  And  the  infrc- 
quency  of  so  deserving  an  act  renders  it  the  more 
conspicuous.  Randolph  instantly  perceived  his  chance, 
and,  availing  himself  of  a  lull  in  the  rhetorical  tor- 
nado raised  by  the  other,  replied  in  a  way  that  one 
rascal  might  be  expected  to  adopt  in  defence  of  a 
brother  rascal. 

For  some  minutes  Randolph  spoke  in  a  manner 
that  would  not  only  have  crushed  to  the  earth  those 
present,  but  the  whole  town,  yea,  and  the  whole  colony 
with  thetii,  had  there  been  power  in  the  human  voice 
to  do  it.  Beautiful  Nahant  was  probably  looming  up- 
inspiringly  before  his  mental  vision.  There  is  no 
stronger  incentive  to  eloquence,  after  all,  than  the 
expectation  of  a  commensurate  reward.  We  are  sure 
that  it  is  so  at  the  bar,  and  beg  leave  modestly  to 
ask  if  appearances  do  not  indicate  that  it  is  likewise 
so  in  the  pulpit. 

Simple  words  not  being  competent  to  effect  his 
purpose  at  once,  Randolph  resorted  to  gestures.  And 
these  he  adopted  in  threatening  variety.  But  as  yet, 
the  table,  being  between  them,  Avas  the  greatest  suf- 
ferer, meeting  the  common  fate  of  go-betweens.  It 
danced  and  creaked  under  the  inflictions;  but  its  antics 
and  complaints  were  unheeded.  All  this  was  perhaps 
very  well  as  a  finality,  but  as  a  prelude,  the  same  can 
hardly  be  said  of  it. 


172  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

Another  moment,  and  with  startling  cnddenness  tbg 
demure  witnesses  of  the  scene  were  brought  to  their 
feet  by  a  horrid  sljriek  from  the  champion  of  tlieir 
cause,  hastil}^  followed  by  Randolph's  yelling  o\it,  that 
the  ears  of  his  bold  antagonist  should  pay  the  forfeit 
of  the  slanders  of  his  tongue. 

The  fact  was,  the  insanely  excited  Randolph  had, 
with  the  i-apidity  of  lightning,  whipped  a  little  knife 
from  his  pocket,  and  actually  almost  severed  his  antag- 
onist's left  oar  from  his  head.  The  blood  ran  in  a 
stream,  and  (he  poor  man  danced  round  as  if  he  were 
bare-footed  on  hot  iron.  His  fi'iends  instantly  gathered 
around  him,  and  in  the  confusion  Randolph  hastily 
retired,  not  even  bidding  them  good-bye.  Without 
one  moment  of  fond  lingering  to  contemplate  the 
beauties  of  the  improved  landscape,  or  to  reflect  upon 
the  result  of  the  friendlj'  conference,  he  mounted  his 
horse  and  rode  rapidly  away,  taking  a  last  look  at 
Nahant,  as  it  lay  in  the  misty  distance,  over  his  left 
ehoulder. 

Randolph  never  became  the  owner  of  Nahant. 

And  the  I'cign  of  Andros  soon  terminated. 

It  was  early  in  1G89  that  the  colonists  received  intel- 
h'gence  of  the  invasion  of  England  by  William,  Piince 
of  Orange,  for  the  purpose  of  dethroning  James,  who, 
aside  from  eveiy  other  consideration  had  shown  him- 
self entirely  unfit  for  his  position.  On  receiving  the 
news,  the  ]")eople  Avere  elated  beyond  measure,  and 
many  from  the  country  rushed  to  Boston.  There  they 
immediately  united  with  the  uprising  citizens,  seized 
Andros,  Randolph,  and  of  their  most  obnoxious  coadju- 
tors forty  oi'  more  and  imprisoned  them. 

The  people  from  the  country  are  stated  to  liave 
been  headed  by  Mr.  Shepard  the  Lynn  minister.     And 


OLIVER   PURGHIS.  173 

we  are  inclined  to  think  that  on  that  occasion  lie  did 
not  manifest  a  particularly  meek  and  lowly  spirit,  for 
a  writer  of  that  period  says,  "  the  coiinliy  ''  came  in 
at  about  eleven  o'clock,  "headed  by  one  Shepard, 
teacher  of  Lynn,  Avho  were  like  so  many  wild  bears; 
and  the  leader,  mad  with  passion,  more  savage  than  any 
of  his  followers."  And  the  writer  adds  that  "All  tlio 
cry  was  for  the  Governor  and  Mr.  Randolph."  Mr. 
Purchis  and  two  or  three  of  the  dignitaries  who  had 
met  the  Secretary'  at  his  house,  and  who  had  eaten  and 
drank  with  him  at  Nahant  on  the  exciting  occasion 
before  alluded  to,  were  there,  supporting  Mr.  Shepard, 
and  it  was  quite  natural  that  the  cry  should  be  for  Mr. 
Randolph  as  well  as  the  Governor.  And  had  Mr,  Ran- 
dolph been  handed  over  to  the  disposal  of  IMr.  Purchis, 
nothing  but  the  great  humanity  of  the  latter  would 
have  saved  him  from  a  worse  mutilation  than  a  half 
severed  ear. 

After  the  Andros  government  had  been  thus  disposed 
of,  the  former  magistrates  were  reinstated  to  act  as  a 
council  of  safety  till  authentic  information  could  be 
received  from  England.  Sir  Edmond  and  some  of  his 
right  hand  men  were  kept  securel}',  excepting  for  a 
brief  interval  of  escape  to  Rhode  Island,  imi'd  they 
were  ordered  home  for  trial. 

But  every  thing  remained  in  a  turbulent  and  doubt- 
ful state  till  the  tidings  arrived  that  AYilliam  and  Mary 
were  fiimly  seated  on  the  throne.  Great  rejoicing 
followed. 

One  of  the  first  things  that  Mr.  Purchis  did  was  to 
illuminate  his  house.  And  he  came  near  being  a  seri- 
ous loser  by  his  patriotic  display  ;  for  one  of  the  un- 
watched  tallow  candles  in  the  garret  window  undertook 
to  play  some  pranks  with  a  bunch  of  pennyroyal  that 


174  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

hung  near,  which  flared  up,  and  indignantly  blazed 
away  upon  some  innocent  catnip.  And  then  the  catnip 
must  needs  run  a  fiery  race  upon  a  basket  of  mullen 
leaves.  And  finally,  the  spread  of  the  contagion  was 
not  arrested  till  half  the  roof  was  burned. 

The  people  of  the  Bay  Colony  were  now  zealous  in 
their  endeavors  for  the  revival  of  the  old  CJjartar  or 
the  grant  of  a  new  one.  The  question  of  the  Charters 
was  not,  however,  immediately  acted  on.  But  autho- 
rity was  given  to  the  council  to  administer  the  govern- 
ment, till  further  directions,  according  to  the  old 
Charter. 

That  memorable  year  of  smiles  and  tears,  of  mystery 
and  sightless  zeal,  1692,  brought  a  new  Charter  for 
Massachusetts,  and  it  included  Plymouth,  Maine,  and 
other  territory.  The  Governors  under  this  Charter 
were  appointed  by  the  Crown.  And  Sir  William 
Phipp  was  the  first  Governor. 

Aiid  nov.'  a  new  era,  nb  it  were,  commenced  in  New 
England.  A  fresh  spirit  seemed  to  be  awakened,  and 
new  and  enlarged  views  began  to  prevail.  The  people 
conceived  that  they  had  other  great  problems  to  work 
out  than  those  of  a  strictly  religious  character;  that 
temporal  interests  of  leading  importance  in  the  wide 
world  demanded  their  attention;  that  commerce  should 
be  extended,  the  arts  encouraged.  Those  branches  of 
education  more  directly  bearing  on  the  business  of  the 
world  began  to  receive  greater  care.  And  th.o  j)ress 
was  looked  upon  as  an  engine  more  worthy  of  being 
eecurcd  for  the  support  of  justice  in  the  ever  occurring 
conflicts  for  popular  rights. 

We  have  spoken  of  Mr.  Purchis  as  being  a  Repre- 
eentalive  to  the  General  Court  as  early  as  1660.  In 
1668  lie  was  chosen  County  Commissioner.     He  was 


OLIVER   PURCHIS.  175 

several  years  Town  Clerk.  And  at  tlie  Court  of  Elec- 
tions held  Jit  Boston,  in  May,  1GS5,  lie  was  elected  to 
the  dignified  office  of  Assistant;  but  the  record  adds 
that  he  "  declined  his  oatlj."  Now  all  these  things 
show  that  he  was  a  man  for  whom  the  community  had 
great  respect,  and  in  whose  judgment  and  fidelity  they 
relied.  And  his  conduct  in  the  knotty  matter  of  the 
Randolph  petition  showed  that  he  was  by  no  means 
deficient  in  courage. 

And  now  Mr.  Purchis  must  be  allowed  to  prance 
before  the  reader  for  a  moment  in  quite  a  different 
character.  And  we  must  go  back  some  twenty  years, 
for  in  this  vsketch  we  have  chosen  rather  to  preserve 
unity  in  subject  matter  than  chronological  order. 

In  1CG5  an  order  was  made  for  the  promulgation  of 
a  certain  declaration  under  this  title:  "  A  declaration 
by  the  General  Court  of  his  majestjes  colony  of  the 
Massachusets  Bay  in  New  England."  With  the  decla- 
ration itself  the  reader  would  not  bo  interested.  But 
with  another  order,  that  followed,  we  are  certain  that 
the  rase  would  be  different.  It  was  this:  "And  it  is 
hereby  ordered  &  desired  that  the  declaration  shall  be 
publislied  by  M"^  Oliuer  Purchis  on  horse  backe,  by 
sound  of  trumpet,  &  that  Thomas  Bligh,  the  trumpeter, 
&  Marshall  Richard  Wajte  accompany  him,  &  y'  in  the 
close  he  say,  wth  an  audible  vojce,  '  God  sane  the 
king.' "  Now  it  was  no  hardship  for  Mv.  Purchis  to 
declare  the  matter  of  the  order;  nor  was  it  probably 
any  hardshif)  to  have  his  trumpet  blown,  either  literally 
or  metaphorically.  But  as  to  the  closing  supplicatory 
ejaculation,  that  was  not  quite  so  easily  disposed  of. 
There  is,  liowever,  always  some  back  door  of  escape 
from  the  performance  of  an  unpleasant  duty.  He  waa 
no  partisan  of  Charles,  having  many  a  time  made  him- 


no  NOTABLE   PEOPLE.  w 

self  lioarsG  by  huzzaing-  for  Cromwell  and  tlio  Common- 
wealth. And,  providentially,  on  the  very  day  when 
he  was  to  perform  his  duty,  a  powerful  cou,i;h  came  to 
his  rescue;  and  what  was  a  little  remarkable  in  its 
operation;  a  spell  was  sure  to  seize  him,  just  as  he  was 
about  to  pronounce  the  last  word.  So.  during  the 
explosion,  something  would  gurgle  out,  that  might 
have  been  interpreted  king,  curse,  or  commonwealth  — 
whichever  the  hearer  might  most  strongly  desiro  to 
have  saved. 

Mr.  Purchis  received  many  compliments  for  his  dig- 
nified manner  and  stentorian  enunciation,  as  well  as 
much  s^Mupathy  on  account  of  his  tormenting  cough. 
One  benevolent  dame  followed  him  for  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  with  her  tow  cloth  apron  thrown  over  her  head, 
to  recommend  a  curative  s}'rup  that  she  had  lately 
concocted,  and  to  offer  him  a  present  of  some  if  he 
would  call  on  his  return.  And  not  the  least  remarka- 
ble thing  about  the  cough  was  that  it  disnppeared  as 
suddenly  as  it  came.  Immediately  on  his  retui-n  from 
his  official  airing,  his  lungs  were  at  rest;  and  that 
even  without  a  resort  to  the  syrup. 

Wo  have  just  alluded  to  Mr.  Purchis's  attachment  to 
the  Commonwealth.  And  in  connection  with  that 
point  in  his  character  it  seems  appropriate  to  relate 
an  occurrence  that  took  place  as  early  as  1G60,  and 
which  was  greatly  appi'oved  of  by  his  patiiotic  towns- 
men. By  very  shrewd  management  he  saved  fi'om 
arrest  an  eminent  fugitive  who  sought  shelter  beneath 
his  roof. 

On  a  cold  evening  in  the  winter  of  that  year,  just  as 
Mr.  Purchis  had  drawn  up  his  great  flag-bottomed 
chair  in  preparation  for  partaking  of  his  evening  meal, 
which  was  already  smoking  on  the  table,  ho  was  a  littlo 


OLIVER   PURCHIS.  177 

disturbed  by  a  loud  rap  at  the  door.  He  hastened  to 
obey  the  summons,  and  found  upon  the  step  a  venerable 
looking  stranger.  His  hair  fell  in  silvery  curls  over  the 
stiff  collar  of  his  coat,  and  his  three  cornered  hat  was 
brought  low  upon  his  head,  as  well,  apparently,  for  the 
purpose  of  concealing  his  countenance  as  protecting 
his  ears  from  the  chill  wind.  He  stood  erect,  and  his 
whole  presence  was  commanding.  His  dress  was  of 
the  finer  kind  of  cloth,  and  though  plain,  exhibited  no 
sign  of  poverty  in  the  wearer,  save  that  an  outer  gar- 
ment, of  which  he  was  destitute,  would  have  been 
desirable  on  so  cold  a  night.  He  carried  a  formidable 
staff,  though  it  did  not  seem  necessary  for  his  support. 

As  the  stranger  manifested  considerable  impatience 
to  be  within  doors,  and  cast  hasty  and  anxious  glances 
up  and  clown  the  street,  Mr.  Purchis  began  to  have  his 
suspicions  aroused,  and  so  placed  himself  in  the  door- 
way as  if  taking  a  position  to  defend  the  castle.  Per- 
ceiving this,  the  man  smiled,  and  looking  the  other 
directly  in  the  eye,  said  a  few  words,  in  a  low  tone. 
But  those  words  were  talismanic.  The  door  instantly 
flew  wide  open,  and  the  brawny  arm  of  the  lord  of 
the  mansion  was  thrown  around  the  stranger,  who 
was  drawn  with  irresistible  force  into  the  spacious 
hall.  Then  the  door  was  shut  and  securely  barred. 
And  then  and  there,  in  that  cold,  dark  hall,  miglit  have 
been  heard  the  echoing  emphasis  with  which  the  ex- 
pansive hands  of  the  patriotic  townsman  were  brought 
together,  and  his  stentorian  voice  exclaiming: 

"  God-a-man  !  Thou  art  welcome  !  Thou  slialt  lodge 
under  my  roof!  Thou  shalt  eat  of  my  bread,  and  be 
warmed  by  my  fire !  The  Devil  hath  set  snares  and 
traps  for  thee,  but  we  will  deliver  thee  out  of  them ! 
Go  to,  thou  damned  ones  !  " 

H*  X2 


ITS  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

Tl)en  it  was  agreed,  in  whispers,  that  the  stranger 
should  be  known  as  John  Rivers,  a  traveler,  while  he 
remained.  This  settled,  Mr.  Purchis  grasped  the  oth- 
er's hand  with  a  fervor  that  admitted  of  no  doubt  of 
his  sincerity,  and  led  him  into  the  great  kitchen.  With- 
out a  formal  introduction  he  whispered  a  few  words  to 
the  older  persons,  and  for  the  ears  of  the  little  pitchers 
had  something  to  say  in  more  audible  tones  about 
friend  Rivers,  the  ti-aveler,  who  perhaps  might  tell 
them  of  his  wonderful  adventures. 

They  all  sat  down  to  the  well  supplied  board,  and 
the  stranger,  seeming  to  forget  his  fatigues  and  dan- 
gers, conversed  with  a  freedom  and  pleasantry  that, 
charmed  them  all.  Even  the  young  folk  quite  forgot 
their  sweet  cakes  in  his  sweeter  Avords. 

After  supper,  Mr.  Purchis  and  the  new  comer  with- 
drew to  the  little  back  room  that  was  warmed  by  the 
kitchen  fire,  and  there,  by  the  dim  light  of  an  aromatic 
bayberry  candle,  remained  for  an  hour  or  more  in 
earnest  conversation.  Occasionally  the  excited  set- 
tler's hands  would  be  brought  together  with  terrific, 
force,  and  he  would  let  down  a  withering  denunci- 
ation upon  the  heads  of  the  ''  hunting  devils." 

But  the  conversation  ended,  and  Mr.  Purchis  came 
out  of  the  room  leaving  the  other  there  with  tlie  candle, 
and  a  book.  Without  saying  a  word  he  put  on  his 
great  fox  skin  overcoat  and  grotesque  fur  cap,  and 
strode  down  to  the  principal  stoi'e  in  the  village, 
where  he  very  diligently  employed  himself  for  an 
hour  or  two  in  picking  up  all  the  news  there  was 
afloat,  all  the  while  exercising  the  utmost  discretion 
in  concealing  all  knowledge  of  the  precious  life  pro- 
tected by  his  roof  Digesting  what  he  had  learned,., 
on  the  way  home,  by  the  time  he  reached  his  house, 


OLIVER   PDRCHIS.  1% 

he  Imd  become  a  little  agitated,  but  concealed  his  state 
of  mind  as  much  as  possible.  He  had  another  private 
interview  with  the  stranger,  and  at  its  close  conducted 
him  to  the  little  corner  chamber  in  which  he  was  to 
lodge,  and  which  was  directly  over  his  own  bed-room. 
After  bidding  him  a  good  night  he  carefully  closed 
the  door,  and  as  he  Avas  doing  so,  in  an  emphatic  whis- 
per, charged  him  if  he  heard  a  certain  noise  in  the  room 
beneath,  which  had  been  agreed  on  as  a  signal  of  dan- 
ger, to  start  with  the  utmost  speed,  and  to  be  sure 
that  he  took  the  right  road. 

At  a  seasonable  hour  the  whole  household  retired, 
and  presently  all  was  still.  But  Mr.  Purchis  was' 
watchful  and  apprehensive. 

About  midnight,  as  the  moon  was  near  setting, 
two  or  three  individuals,  closely  muffled,  made  their 
appearance,  and  concealing  themselves  in  the  shadow 
of  the  house,  close  to  the  window  of  the  very  room  in 
which  Mr.  Purchis  was  lying,  not,  however,  sleeping, 
held  a  short  conference,  speaking  in  low  tones.  But' 
there  happened  to  be  a  broken  pane  near  the  head  of 
the  bed,  and  it  was  not  difficult  for  the  one  reposing 
there,  with  his  quickened  senses,  to  distinguish  some 
parts  of  the  conversation.  Presently  they  turned  the 
corner  of  the  house  and  loudly  rapped  at  the  door. 

Hardly  had  the  rap  been  given,  when  Mr.  Purchis 
slipped  from  his  bed  and  silently  raised  the  window. 
Then  he  seized  the  little  table,  and  with  all  his  might 
dashed  it  against  the  wainscoting.  This  done,  he 
jumped  out  of  the  window,  and  at  the  top  of  his  speed 
rushed  up  the  street.  The  villains  at  the  door  caught 
sight  of  him,  as  he  designed  they  should,  and  gave 
chase.     It  was  a  spirited  race. 

Mr.  Purchis  had  not  a  shred  of  clothes  on,  with  the 


180  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

exception  of  his  short  under  garment,  his  night-cap 
and  shoes.  His  long  legs,  disencumbered  as  they 
were,  stood  him  in  good  stead,  and  he  easily  distanced 
his  pursuers.  Nevertheless,  he  occasionally  slackened 
his  pace,  lest  they  should  give  over  in  despair.  The 
gallant  race  was  continued  for  nearly  two  miles,  he, 
conscious  of  his  superior  powers  of  foot,  keeping  just 
within  a  tantalising  distance  ahead. 

By  this  time,  however,  he  began  to  fail  a  little  in 
wind,  and  a  range  of  friendly  pines  whispering  their 
willingness  to  afford  him  shelter,  he  dodged  into  cover. 

The  moon  went  down,  and  he  had  no  difficulty  in 
making  a  detour  and  reaching  his  home  in  good  time, 
all  of  a  fine  glow  from  his  healthful  exercise.  But 
what  was  most  satisfactory,  his  venerable  lodger  had 
in  the  mean  time  escaped,  and  was  at  that  moment, 
no  doubt,  warm  in  bed  at  his  new  retreat.  And  where 
that  was,  our  hero'  knew  well  enough,  for  he  was  not 
absent  so  long  in  the  evening  for  nothing;  nor  Avas 
his  last  conference  with  the  stranger  without  a  pur- 
pose. 

That  stranger  was  Goff  the  Regicide. 

Wlially  and  Goff,  as  is  well  known,  reached  Boston 
about  the  middle  of  the  year  IGGO,  and  remained  dodg- 
ing around  there,  and  in  the  vicinity,  mostly  at  Cam- 
bridge, for  eight  or  nine  months,  or  until  they  got  off 
to  New  Haven.  During  that  time  they  had  many  hair- 
breadth escapes,  for  there  were  numerous  rascals,  who, 
under  pretense  of  loyalty,  but  really  to  obtain  such 
rewards  as  they  might,  were  ready  like  hounds  to  hunt 
the  poor  Judges,  and  if  possible  deliver  them  into 
hands  that  would  delight  in  shedding  their  blood.  It 
appears  that  on  the  day  when  GofF  so  suddenly  ap- 
peared at  Lynn,  he  had  narrowly  escaped  capture,  and 


OLIVER  PURCHIS.  181 

had  made  his  way  on  foot  from  Cambridge.  And  his 
uneasiness  on  reaching  the  house  of  Mr.  Purchis  is 
accounted  for  by  his  apprehension  that  he  was  pur- 
sued. 

And  now  a  few  more  words  regarding  the  legislative 
career  of  Mr.  Purchis.  At  a  General  Court  held  in 
Boston,  in  May,  1685,  he,  with  seven  other  wise  men, 
was  appointed  "  to  revise  the  laws  and  especially  such 
as  have  binn  made  since  the  last  comittee  had  the 
pervsall  and  revisall  of  the  body  of  them,  and  to  make 
a  returne  at  the  next  Court  of  Election."  So  it  seems 
he  was  called  to  lay  "his  huge  paw  on  the  statute 
book,"  to  use  the  expressive  phrase  of  the  immortal 
Someone,  that  fell  so  movingly  on  the  sensitive  ears  of 
the  politicians  in  the  exciting  presidential  campaign  of 
1840. 

Massachusetts  has  always  had  a  propensity  to  keep 
revising  her  statutes ;  and,  we  might  add,  a  propensity 
always  to  keep  them  in  a  state  to  need  revising.  Over 
legislation  has  been  her  weakness.  She  has  been  al- 
most smothered  under  her  laws.  And  had  it  not  been 
for  the  safety  valve  afforded  by  the  power  of  one  Legis- 
lature to  undo  what  its  predecessors  had  done,  it  seems 
as  if  she  must  have  breathed  her  last  long  ago. 

In  1860  another  revision  was  published.  And  it  is 
hoped  that  it  may  fare  better  than  its  predecessors, 
retaining  its  identity  a  little  longer.  The  hope,  indeed, 
resolves  itself  into  expectation,  in  view  of  the  fict  that 
the  members  of  the  Legislature  are  now  paid  the  round 
sura  of  three  hundred  dollars  for  the  whole  session,  be 
it  long  or  short,  instead  of  so  much  a  day,  with  the 
privilege  of  extending  the  session  to  any  length.  The 
new  arrangement,  which  went  into  operation  in  1858 
has  already  had  a  wonderful  effect  in  shortening  the 


1,82  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

period  of  their  labors.  We  have  been  particular  in 
Bflentioning  this,  on  account  of  the  useful  lesson  in- 
volved. 

One  other  thing :  By  referring  back  it  will  be  found 
that  Mr.  Purchis  and  his  coadjutors  were  required  to 
make  return  to  the  next  Court.  This  was  having  the 
thing  done  up  in  time.  Those  employed  on  the  18G0 
revision  occupied  some  five  years.  It  may  be  said 
that  their  labors  were  great.  But  that  may  possibly 
be  met  by  the  reply  that  the  same  could  not  be  said  of 
their  industry. 

But  revising  commissioners,  before  our  day,  have 
been  caught  lagging.  The  records  of  a  General  Court 
held  as  early  as  1640,  contain  this :  "  Whereas,  a  brevi- 
ate  of  lawes  was  forme;'ly  sent  fourth  to  bee  considered 
by  the  elders  of  the  churches  &  other  freemen  of  this 
comon  welth,  it  is  now  desired  that  they  will  endevor 
to  ripen  their  thoughts  &  counsells  about  the  same  by 
the  Generall  Court  in  the  next  8th  mo."  That,  how- 
ever, does  not  appear  to  have  been,  strictly  speaking, 
9,  revision.  But  it  is  worth  mentioning,  on  account  of 
what  is  disclosed  regarding  the  deference  paid  to  the 
elders  of  the  churches  in  forming  the  laws.  From  the 
little  heed  taken  of  that  class  now-a-days,  in  such  mat- 
ters, one  would  imagine  that  the  element  they  repre- 
sent was  not  considered  of  much  account  in  law 
making. 

The  first  revision  of  the  statutes,  under  the  consti- 
tution, was  made  in  1822;  the  next  in  183G.  And 
every  year  since,  the  Legislature  has  inflicted  such  an 
avalanche  of  new  laws,  and  made  so  many  alterations 
in  the  old  ones,  that  the  lawyers  have  been  obliged 
to  be  more  industrious  than  was  ever  before  charac- 
teristic of  the  profession,  to  keep  up  in  their  reading. 


OLIVER   PURCHIS.  183 

And  we  are  not  at  all  surprised  that  some  have  been 
driven  to  suicide.  Dr.  Johnson  declared  that  he  could 
always  discover  when  an  author  had  amended  his 
writing,  it  being  impossible  to  avoid  leaving  imperfect 
joints.  But  in  our  amended  laws,  it  would  require 
great  sagacity  to  discern  which  is  patch  and  which 
original. 

And  the  Bay  State  legislatures  have  certainly,  during 
the  last  few  years,  made  unmerciful  havoc  with  old 
principles.  Perhaps  in  no  particular  has  there  been 
more  upheaving  than  in  what  relates  to  the  connubial 
connection.  The  tendency  of  our  legislation,  and  the 
same  may  be  said  of  legislation  in  other  states,  has  been 
to  make  separate,  if,  indeed,  not  antagonistic,  the  in- 
terests of  husband  and  wife,  in  regard  to  property. 
It  can  by  no  means  now  be  said  that  husband  and  wife 
are  one  in  law.  And  it  must  necessarily  follow,  that 
if  all  other  interests  are  made  separate,  the  connection 
itself  will  by  the  very  force  of  circumstances,  be  made 
easy  of  severance.  If  this  thing  goes  on  for  many 
years,  gaining  as  it  has  of  late,  the  marriage  relation 
will  come  to  be  regarded  both  popularly  and  legally 
as  a  mere  civil  contract  capable  of  being  dissolved 
at  anytime  by  consent  of  the  parties  themselves  — 
instead  of  a  status,  the  continuance  of  which  should 
not  be  determined  against  the  interests  of  society  at 
large.  We  very  much  question  whether  the  tendency 
of  these  things  is  not  to  disturb  the  peace  of  families 
without  rendering  an  equivalent.  Indeed,  can  any 
thing  compensate  for  the  destruction  of  domestic 
peace  ?  The  union  of  husband  and  wife  should  be 
as  perfect  as  possible.  And  the  declaration  of  the 
elegant  writer  and  sound  moralist  of  a  century  and  a 
half  ago,  that  in  his  opinion  separate  purses  between 


184  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

husband  and  wife  are  as  unnatural  as  separate  beds, 
might  be  profitably  heeded. 

Legislatures  have  great  power,  and  we  often  see  that 
they  not  only  exercise  what  they  have,  tyrannically, 
but  assume  what  they  do  not  possess.  Jefferson  said, 
in  a  letter  to  Madison,  as  early  as  1789,  that  the  exec- 
utive power  of  our  government  was  not  alone  to  be 
feared ;  that  the  tyranny  of  the  legislature  was  then 
most  to  be  feared  and  would  continue  so  for  many 
years.  And  the  truth  involved  in  this  is  conspicuous 
in  our  day. 

The  assertion  that  every  man  who  is  fond  of  fun  is 
a  good  man,  may  not  be  true.  But  it  is  true  that 
every  good  man  is  fond  of  fun.  Fun,  however,  should 
not  so  monopolise  our  being  as  to  crowd  out  all  other 
virtues,  as  sometimes  comes  near  being  the  case.  In- 
deed it  often  appears  with  an  individual  as  if  he  were 
80  crammed  with  this  or  that  particular  excellence 
that  no  room  was  left  for  any  other;  much  as  it  might 
be  with  a  boy  when  half  through  his  Thanksgiving 
dinner. 

Mr.  Purchis  had  a  well  balanced  fondness  for  fun, 
and  as  he  loved  it  in  moderation,  so  he  loved  it  in 
purity.  Now  there  is  enough  of  the  commodity  in  the 
world,  and  any  one  who  is  disposed  to  search  a  little 
can  find  it  in  plenty.  But  Mr.  Purchis  did  not  need  to 
spend  much  of  his  valuable  time  in  the  search,  for  ho 
knew  just  where  to  look  for  it.  He  was  favored  above 
that  numerous  class  who  are  doomed  to  spend  one 
half  of  their  lives  in  unsuccessfully  searching  for  the 
blessing  named,  or  some  other,  and  occupy  the  other 
half  in  lamenting  that  they  cannot  find  it. 

The  General  Court  was  the  great  fountain  of  fun 
from  which  Mr.  Purchis  drew  abundant  supplies.     And 


OLIVER   PURCHIS.  185 

the  inspiration  thus  received  did  not  subside  during 
his  life.  Many  a  winter  evening  did  he  spend,  when 
gray  headed,  in  entertaining  his  neighbors  with  reci- 
tals of  the  funny  occurrences  there  while  he  graced 
one  of  the  seats.  It  is  astonishing  how  long,  in  most 
memories,  such  things  will  retain  a  place,  after  more 
weighty  matters  have  faded  awa3\ 

He  became  quite  noted  for  his  narrations,  and  being 
always  sure  to  attach  some  excellent  moral  to  them, 
was  regarded  as  a  sort  of  village  Gamaliel.  The 
schoolmaster  frequently  urged  him  into  school,  to 
instruct  the  little  ones  from  his  stores  of  wisdom. 
And  he  never  arose  to  deliver  his  talk,  as  he  modestly 
termed  it,  without  the  little  eyes  sparkling  and  the 
little  ears  erecting. 

But  it  would  not  perhaps  be  desirable  to  extend  this 
sketch,  though  other  interesting  events  in  the  life  of 
Mr.  Purchis  press  forward  for  notice.  It  however 
gives  us  great  pleasure  to  dwell  on  such  a  character, 
a  character  wherein  the  merits  so  far  transcend  the 
failings.  It  is  to  such  as  he  that  we  are  indebted  for 
the  noble  foundations  of  our  greatness  and  prosperity. 
And  let  no  one  who  values  the  blessings  that  crown 
these  days,  sneer  at  those  sturdy  fathers  whose  hard- 
ships browned  their  visages  and  gnarled  their  hands, 
and  whose  knowledge  of  the  polite  arts  and  the  learn- 
ing of  the  books  was,  in  most  instances,  necessarily 
circumscribed. 

In  closing,  we  feel  bound  to  remark  that  Mr.  Pur- 
chis had  eccentricities.  And  it  is  not  to  be  disguised 
that  these  gave  occasion  for  some  to  speak  evil  of  liim. 
Now  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  it  is  perhaps  better 
for  one  not  to  be  spoken  of  at  all,  than  to  be  spoken 
against ;  in  other  words  to  remain   unknown   rather 


186  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

than  to  be  known  through  evil  report.  And  it  is  cer- 
tainly most  congenial  to  the  honest  and  sensitive  to  be 
spared  from  censure  though  it  might  be  maliciously 
and  falsely  bestowed.  Indeed  there  is  no  one,  how- 
ever brave  he  may  think  himself,  who  is  not  disturbed 
by  animadversions,  whether  just  or  unjust.  But  if  we 
take  the  matter  in  a  mere  worldly  point  of  view,  one 
had  better  be  talked  against  than  not  talked  about. 
It  is,  moreover,  quite  clear  that  for  some  purposes  it 
is  even  better,  to  be  traduced  than  praised ;  for  by 
being  set  down  among  rogues  one  may  get  the  sympa- 
thy of  that  brotherhood,  and  they  being  largely  in  the 
majority,  he  might  receive  the  more  aid  and  comfort. 
Why,  what  would  a  politician,  for  instance,  do  without 
a  crew  of  slanderers  at  his  heels  ?  though  perhaps  in 
this  illustration  it  might  be  more  exact  to  ^ay,  instead 
of  slanderers,  dispensers  of  unsavory  truths.  But  we 
Lave  no  disposition  to  insinuate  that  Mr.  Purchis  had 
any  reprehensible  ambition,  or  desire  to  manufacture 
a  reputation  in  any  illegitimate  way.  His  course  was 
straightforward  and  manly. 

As  before  observed,  Mr.  Purchis  removed  to  Con- 
cord in  1691,  and  died  in  1701,  at  the  age  of  '^  foure 
score  yeares  &  viij."  The  evening  twilight  of  his 
existence  was  serene  and  happy.  Though  he  was  away 
from  most  of  those  who  had  longest  known  him  and 
could  consequently  the  better  appreciate  his  virtues, 
yet  the  christian  resignation  of  his  parting  hour  af- 
forded an  example  that  all  ^vho  wept  around  him  could 
comprehend  and  were  constrained  to  admire. 


THOMA.S   DEXTER. 

"  Lo  !  quick  beneath  his  lustie  arme, 

the  antient  forest  falls ; 
And  o'er  its  bounde  the  noble  fiirmo 

distends  its  circling  walls." 

We  find  Mr.  Dexter  in  the  Third  Plantation  as  early 
as  1630.  And  being  one  of  those  destined  to  make  a 
sensation  wherever  they  may  be,  we  are  enabled  to 
catch  glimpses  of  him  through  a  long  series  of  years. 
The  early  municipal  records  having  been  destroyed, 
however,  it  is  not  easy  to  give  a  full  account  of  his 
life.  To  the  colony  records  we  are  indebted  for  most 
of  the  certain  knowledge  that  survives  respecting  him. 

It  must  be  acknowledged  in  the  outset  that  Mr. 
Dexter,  at  least  in  his  earlier  life,  possessed  an  irascible 
temper,  and  that  his  moral  principles  were  not  always 
sufficient  to  restrain  his  pugnacious  propensities ;  a 
condition  by  no  means  uncommon  in  this  irritating  and 
irritable  world.  One  of  the  earliest  incidents  in  his 
life  here,  was  a  quarrel  with  Gov.  Endicott.  And  it 
seems  to  have  originated  in  a  dispute  about  the  proper 
season  for  trimming  that  immortal  pear  tree  brought 
over  by  the  latter,  and  which  the  newspapers  of  this 
day  every  year  inform  us  yet  flourishes  on  what  is 
still  called  the  Endicott  Farm,  in  Danvers.  In  regard 
to  the  difficulty,  however,  we  are  glad  to  say  that  tho 
aggression  seems  to  have  come  from  the  testy  magis- 


188  ROTABLE   PEOPLE. 

trate,  for  Mr.  Dexter  appeared  as  complainant.  It 
may  be  mentioned,  in  passing,  that  Endicott  was  not 
Governor  at  the  time  the  affair  happened.  At  a  Court 
of  Assistants,  held  in  Boston,  May  3,  1631,  a  jury  was 
empanneled  to  inquire  concerning  the  *'*  accon  of  bat- 
try,  compliiyned  of  by  Thomas  Dexter  against  Capt. 
Endicott."  And  the  verdict  was:  "The  jury  findes 
for  the  plaintiffe  and  cesses  for  damages  xls."  We  do 
not  therefore  perceive  that  in  this  matter  much  should 
be  set  down  to  the  discredit  of  Mr.  Dexter. 

An  unbecoming  exhibition  of  temper  in  Mr.  Dexter 
took  place  in  1632.  The  record  of  the  Court  of  As- 
sistants, thus  discovers  its  nature:  "It  is  ordered  that 
Thomas  Dexter  shalbe  bound  to  his  good  behav"^  till 
the  nexte  Genall  Court,  <fe  ffined  vl.  for  his  misdemean' 
&  insolent  carriage  &  speeches  to  S :  Bradstreete,  att 
his  owne  howse ;  also  att  the  Genall  Court  is  bound  to 
confesse  his  fault."  It  does  not  exactly  appear  what 
he  did  about  confessing  his  fault.  But  we  are  justi- 
fied in  a  favorable  conclusion  for  the  Court  seems  to 
have  been  graciously  inclined  at  the  term  held  Nov.  7. 
At  that  time  there  were  "iiij^.  of  Tho :  Dexter's  fine 
of  \l.  forgiven  him." 

And  wo  find  still  another  case,  which,  judging  from 
the  severity  of  the  penalty,  was  deemed  of  a  peculiarly 
aggravated  character.  At  a  Court  holden  March  4, 
1632,  it  was  disposed  of  in  this  wise:  "It  is  ordered 
that  Thomas  Dexter  shalbe  sett  in  the  bilbowes,  dis- 
franchized &  fSned  xU.  for  speakeing  repchfull  <fe  sedi- 
tious words  against  the  goum'  here  established,  & 
findeing  fault  to  dyv's  wth  the  acts  of  the  Court  saye- 
ing  this  captious  goum*  will  bring  all  to  naught,  adding 
that  the  best  of  them  was  but  an  atturney,  &c."  This 
was   really  a  severe  punishment  j   the   disfranchising 


THOMAS   DEXTER.  189 

feature  especially.  Nor  Avas  the  fine  of  40  Z.  a  small 
matter,  particularly  in  those  days.  And  the  ignomini- 
ous exposition  in  the  bilboes  was  of  no  light  character. 
What  part  of  the  rigor  is  attributable  to  his  slurring 
allusion  to  "  an  atturney,"  we  cannot  say.  But  the 
utterance  seems  to  indicate  that  some  law-mongers 
were  not  very  highly  estimated.  And  the  distaste  for 
lawyers  so  early  manifested  in  the  Plantation  seems  to 
have  existed  for  many  years.  The  venerable  Benja- 
min Merrill,  who  died  in  Salem,  in  1847,  and  who  was 
for  a  long  period  one  of  the  brightest  ornaments  of  the 
bar  appears  to  have  been  the  first  regular  lawyer  who 
settled  in  Lynn.  He  came  in  1808.  And  a  few  years 
before  his  deatli  he  informed  the  writer,  that  soon  after 
opening  his  office,  which  was  in  the  lower  room  of  a 
modest  dwelling  house,  a  deputation  of  the  citizens 
waited  on  him  with  the  request  that  he  would  remove 
from  town ;  giving  as  a  reason  that  they  had  usually 
lived  peaceably  and  were  apprehensive  that  the  incom- 
ing of  a  lawyer  betokened  the  outgoing  of  quiet  and 
good-neighborhood.  Now  Mr.  Merrill  was  a  gentle- 
man distinguished  for  excellence  of  feeling  and  suavity 
of  manner.  So  he  politely  informed  them  that  he  cer- 
tainly should  not  remain  against  their  Avishes ;  and 
presently  removed  to  Salem,  where  he  lived  for  many 
years,  prosperous  and  greatly  respected. 

But  to  return  to  Mr.  Dexter :  The  severe  punishment 
awarded  him  clearly  proves  that  the  people  of  his  day 
had  not  the  blessed  privilege  of  railing  at  government 
with  the  impunity  that  people  of  this  day  have.  But 
here,  again,  good  fortune  attended  him.  A  record  of 
the  General  Court,  Sept.  6,  1638,  referring  to  certain 
doings  in  1632,  says:  "4  M^'ch  Thom:  Dexter  being 
fined  iOl.  there  was  30 Z.  of  it  remited  to  him."     The 


190  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

fourth  of  March  is  a  lucky  day,  as  well  as  an  honorable 
one  in  American  annals. 

But  it  is  not  agreeable  to  dwell  on  occurrences  like 
those  named ;  occurrences  that  impel  us  to  the  afore- 
said acknowledgment  that  our  Subject  was  unfortu- 
nately possessed  of  an  irritable  temper.  However,  his 
antagonists  seem  to  have  been  among  the  more  emi- 
nent personages.  If  a  man  must  fight,  it  is  more  to 
his  credit  to  grapple  Avith  a  worthy  adversary.  "  Capt. 
Endicott"  and  "S:  Bradstreete"  were  Governors  under 
the  first  Charter,  the  former  in  1644  and  the  latter  in 
1679.  And  his  assaults  upon  the  government  show 
that  he  shot  among  lofty  game.  Yet  he  may  have 
engaged  with  more  lowly  adversaries,  differences  with 
them  being  adjusted  without  the  intervention  of  the 
august  courts ;  for,  after  all,  irritable  people  are  not 
usually  very  particular  in  choosing  their  antagonists. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Dexter  was  a  man  of  en- 
terprise and  public  spirit.  We  find  him  zealous  in  the 
furtherance  of  every  operation  promising  to  be  of 
public  benefit,  particularly  when  connected  with  his 
own  personal  advantage.  Enterprise,  indeed,  was  a 
characteristic  of  the  family  from  the  time  when  their 
great  progenitor  began  the  manufacture  of  Dutch 
cheese,  in  North  Wales,  down  to  the  time  "when  the 
renowned  Lord  Timothy  sent  warming-pans  and  skates 
to  the  West  India  market. 

And  the  men  of  enterprise,  after  all,  are  those  who 
are  most  frequently  in  difficulties  with  those  about 
them.  Many  oppose  them  from  selfish  motives  and 
many  from  jealousy.  Quiet  and  indolent  people  have 
little  opposition  to  encounter.  They  do  not  jostle 
their  neighbors  because  they  do  not  stir  among  them. 
If  a  person  never  steps  he  will  not  tread  on  the  toes 


THOMAS   DEXTER.  191 

of  others.  And  by  never  stirring,  he  accomplishes 
little  or  nothing.  True,  the  old  saw  teaches  that  the 
deepest  water  runs  stillest.  But  passing  by  the  im- 
portant question  recently  agitated,  whether  still  water 
runs  at  all,  it  might  be  suggested  that  something  de- 
pends upon  the  quality  of  the  bottom. 

Some  people  are  so  given  to  planning  and  the 
changing  of  plans  that  they  arrive  at  the  time  to  die 
before  they  have  fixed  on  a  way  to  live.  It  seemed 
necessary,  however,  for  Mr.  Dexter  to  change  or 
supersede  some  of  his  plans,  for  two  or  three  were  of 
such  magnitude  that  had  he  been  required  to  live  a 
sufficient  time  for  their  accomplishment,  he  would  not 
at  this  hour  have  been  beyond  middle  life. 

One  or  two  of  his  enterprises  certainly  arose  to 
the  sublime,  if,  indeed,  they  did  not  shoot  a  little  into 
the  adjoirn'ng  territory.  And  on  the  whole,  we  are 
persuaded  that  under  conceivable"  circumstances  he 
might  have  become  as  conspicuous  as  Walter  Kaleigh, 
Cromwell,  or  Van  Tromp.  But  in  the  pent  up  Third 
Plantation  he  was  simply  Farmer  Dexter.  Are  not 
characters  formed  by  circumstances?  Had  Franklin 
been  bound  as  apprentice  to  a  shoemaker  in  some 
country  village,  is  it  probable  that  he  would  ever  have 
been  known  as  any  thing  more  than  a  jolly  cordwainer? 
Why  should  there  not  be  jovial  Franklins  in  village 
shops  as  well  as  mute  Miltons  in  country  churchyards? 

Mr.  Dexter  did  much  service  in  clearing  away  the 
woods,  fencing  pasture  land,  and  reducing  the  liclier 
acres  to  an  arable  condition.  That  excellent  kind  of 
fencing,  the  cobble-stone  wall,  still  so  common  in  the 
Bay  State,  was  put  in  requisition  at  a  very  early  pe- 
riod. Indeerl,  in  clearing  the  lands,  these  walls  could 
be  laid  very  cheaply;  and  were  so  easily  repaired  and  so 


192  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

durable,  that  for  miles  hardly  any  other  kind  of  fencing 
was  in  use.  Many  of  the  walls  laid  by  the  first  settlers 
still  adorn  the  landscape,  mossy  with  age  but  enduring 
in  strength.  And  many  a  valuable  land  title  has  been 
established  by  these  unsubornable  witnesses. 

Not  long  ago  an  important  cause  was  decided  in  the 
Supreme  Court,  wherein  an  ancient  stone  wall  on  land 
that  once  belonged  to  Mr.  Dexter,  and  the  line  of  which 
is  still  visible,  was  made,  through  the  mirage  of  the  law, 
to  loom  up  in  a  manner  most  perspicuous  and  satisfac- 
tory. And  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  woithy  Subject 
of  this  biography  himself  assisted  in  laying  that  very 
wall.  Perhaps,  also,  an  occasional  set-to  with  a  boosy 
workman,  served  to  relieve  the  monotony  of  the  labor. 
Alaric,  when  so  fiercely  battling  the  Romans,  declared 
that  he  was  always  at  peace  with  stone  walls.  With- 
out stopping  to  inquire  whether  they,  were  fortress 
walls,  with  which,  no  doubt,  he  found  it  expedient  to 
be  at  peace,  Ave  proceed  to  remark  that  Mr.  Dexter 
was  not  only  at  peace  but  in  love  with  stone  walls  of 
the  kind  just  now  under  notice.  He  was  a  lusty  and 
accomplished  hand  at  their  erection,  and  so  substantial 
was  his  handiwork,  that  on  one  occasion,  in  1G58,  the 
frost,  whlcli  had  for  several  years  been  trying  in  vain 
to  level  a  small  piece,  was  forced  to  call  to  its  aid  a 
spirited  young  earthquake  before  the  end  could  be 
accomplished. 

In  common  with  all  men  of  public  spirit,  Mr.  Dexter 
was  not  always  successful  in  inducing  others  to  think 
as  he  did.  Had  it  not  been  for  this  difiiculty,  some 
of  the  wonderful  improvements  that  have  been  re- 
served for  this  age  would  have  gladdened  the  eyes  of 
our  great-grandfathers.  And  some  otliors  that  now 
never  will  be  made  would  have  cheered  the  same  eyes. 


THOMAS   DEXTER.  193 

Ljnn  Beach,  that  lovely  extent  of  glittering  sand  and 
curious  pebbles  and  shells,  which  the  old  geographer 
declared  it  worth  a  voyage  across  the  ocean  to  see, 
would  have  had  a  sea-guard  that  all  the  sapping  and 
mining  power  that  old  Neptune  had  at  his  command 
could  not  have  overthrown.  Mr.  Dexter  foresaw  the 
encroachments  that  the  ungovernable  billows  would 
make,  as' soon  as  the  trees  were  removed;  and  saga- 
ciously considering  that  in  the  abundance  of  material 
then  at  hand,  an  impregnable  barrier  could  be  erected 
at  comparatively  little  cost,  set  about  compassing  the 
object.  But  the  colonial  authorities  viewed  the  matter 
with  indifference.  And  magnates  of  the  lesser  spheres 
thought  the  undertaking  altogether  too  great  to  be 
engaged  in.  Some  ridiculed  the  project.  But  ridi- 
cule is  one  of  those  weapons  that  none  but  the  most 
skillful  should  attempt  to  use. 

A  member  of  the  General  Court,  who  had  given  an 
airing  to  his  powers  of  irony  in  a  speech  concerning 
the  proposed  erection,  during  an  afternoon  session, 
got  a  blow  in  the  face,  on  his  way  home,  a  little  after 
dark,  that  sent  him  staggering  against  a  rail  fence.  It 
was  never  ascertained  who  gave  the  blow,  though  a 
great  noise  was  made  on  account  of  such  a  daring 
assault  being  made  on  a  public  functionary.  It  is  not 
even  clear  on  Avhom  suspicion  most  strongly  rested. 

Mr.  Dexter  arrived  home  rather  late  that  night. 
But  there  was  nothing  particularly  suspicious  in  that. 
Neither  was  there  any  thing  particularly  suspicious  in 
the  fact  that  in  the  morning  one  or  two  small  patches 
of  skin  appeared  to  have  escaped  from  the  knuckles 
of  his  right  hand ;  for  work  upon  stone  walls  is  apt 
to  occasion  injuries  of  the  hands.  But  there  was  a 
little  something  calculated  to  awaken  suspicion  in  his 
I  13 


194  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

tart  reply  to  the  goodwife  who  at  the  breakfast  table 
sympathetically  inquired  how  he  had  so  injured  him- 
self— ''  Ask  me  not,  ask  me  not,  dame.  The  pain  will 
not  be  yours  to  bear." 

Perhaps,  however,  Mr.  Dexter  would  have  been 
more  successful  in  securing  his  end  had  he  not  con- 
nected with  the  project  named  another  so  unquestion- 
ably chimerical  as  almost  to  create  a  doubt  as  to  his 
sanity.  Indeed  he  loaded  his  omnibus  so  heavily  that 
it  could  not  be  dragged.  This  latter  enterprise  was 
to  clear  off  all  the  trees  and  other  vegetation  on  Egg 
Rock,  shovel  the  surface  earth  into  the  sea,  and  then 
boat  over  sufficient  yellow  loam  to  form  a  miniature 
plantation.  But  what  he  expected  to  raise  there  that 
could  not  be  better  produced  on  the  main  land,  we 
are  entirely  at  a  loss  to  determine.  We  however 
conclude,  from  something  found  in  Obadiah  Turner's 
journal,  that  he  fancied  he  could  there  raise  a  kind 
of  cane  that  would  be  useful  in  chair  making  and  which 
required,  in  growing,  a  constant  and  abundant  saline 
evaporation.  Any  way,  by  perseverance  during  an 
entire  season  he  managed  to  get  a  considerable  quan- 
tity of  new  earth  there.  The  lonely  keeper  of  the 
light  house,  has  now  the  benefit  of  his  wonderful  labor. 
And  when  that  functionary  contemplates  his  stunted 
cabbages  and  wilted  squash-vines,  listless  upon  their 
beds  of  red  sorrel,  he  should  drop  a  tear  to  the  memory 
of  Goodman  Dexter. 

The  project  of  Mr.  Dexter  for  the  erection  of  the 
sea-wall,  was  put  forth  and  received  as  an  enterprise 
for  the  pubhc  benefit.  But  yet,  it  is  not  difficult 
to  perceive  its  connection  with  a  private  interest. 
He  had  purchased  Nahant  from  an  Indian  chief  and 
naturally  had  an  eye  to  the  improvement  of  his  newly 


THOMAS   DEXTER.  195 

acquired  possession.  And  this  we  must  set  down  as 
indisputable  evidence  that  he  was  a  shrewd,  wide- 
awake man;  for  do  we  not  award  such  a  character  to 
those  among  us  who  manage  in  exactly  the  same  way? 

Another  scheme  of  Mr.  Dexter,  was  to  straighten 
Saugus  river.  Any  one  ignorant  of  the  course  of  that 
stream,  by  taking  a  look  from  the  highlands  in  the 
vicinity,  will  at  once  conclude  that  there  is  need 
enough  of  its  being  straightened.  First,  it  appears  to 
have  made  up  its  mind  to  run  this  way.  Then,  after 
going  some  rods,  it  seems  to  have  found  it  expedient 
to  go  back  and  take  a  fresh  start.  Again,  it  diverges 
to  the  right,  as  if  determined  to  run  up  the  hills  and 
off  towards  Boston.  Soon  repenting  of  this,  it  flow3 
rapidly  back  and  keeps  on  towards  the  left  as  if  bent 
on  undermining  the  cedar  hills  on  the  bounds  of  Lynn. 
In  short,  for  a  mile  or  two,  it  seems  aiming  to  illustrate 
the  picturesque  or  endeavoring  to  elucidate  some  oc- 
cult geometrical  problem. 

The  account  given  by  the  Indians  of  the  formation 
of  this  river,  is  worthy  of  being  considered.  They 
gravely  informed  the  settlers  that  Avhen  the  Great 
Spirit  had  got  the  earth  nearly  prepared  for  its  garni- 
ture, he  happened  to  be  walking  around  one  fine  morn- 
ing, somewhere  up  at  the  north,  and  espied  an  enor- 
mous serpent,  basking  in  the  sun,  among  some  spare 
boulders.  Seizing  one  of  the  boulders,  of  many  tuns 
weight,  he  hurled  it  at  the  monster.  Unluckily  the 
aim  was  imperfect,  and  the  serpent  started,  with  great 
speed,  for  the  ocean.  His  assailant,  however,  rapidly 
followed,  dealing  a  blow  whenever  Avithin  reach.  And 
it  was  only  by  exercising  all  his  powers,  both  of  speed 
and  cunning,  sometimes  dodging  back,  between  the 
legs  of  his  pursuer,  and  sometimes  gUding  to  the  right 


196  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

or  loft,  that  lie  was  finally  able  to  rcacli  the  sea.  The 
earth  not  then  having  quite  hardened,  the  serpent's 
body  sank  somewhat;  and  thus  was  ploughed  the  tor- 
tuous channel  of  Saugus  river. 

The  Indians  added  that  there  were  accounts  of  the 
serpent's  having  been  occasionally  seen  near  the  shore, 
after  the  country  became  inhabited,  and  of  some  being- 
afraid  to  go  out  in  their  skiffs  for  fish.  What  reflec- 
tive mind  will  fail  to  connect  the  wonderful  serpent 
here  spoken  of  with  that  pet  of  summer  visiters  to 
the  coast  of  New  England,  the  Sea-serpent?  f\i^d 
what  pious  mind  will  fiiil  to  connect  them  both  with 
that  old  serpent,  the  Devil,  who  is  ubiquitous  ?  J 

.„There  is  some  obscurity  about  Mr.  Dexter's  object 
in  straightening  Saugus  river,  though  he  seems  to  have 
had  something  connected  with  mill  privileges  in  mind. 
His  purpose,  however,  might  simply  have  been  to 
make  straight  the  crooked  ways  of  nature.  But  be 
that  as  it  may,  he  was  no  more  successful  in  obtaining 
public  aid  here  than  in  his  beach  enterprise.  And  there 
is  little  wonder,  for  he  overdid  the  thing,  running  into 
the  same  weakness  that  defeats  many  worthy  objects 
in  these  days.  Perseverance  is  much  more  effectual 
than,  zeal,  with  one  who  desires  to  obtain  public  favor. 
Some  of  the  witnesses  whom  he  produced  made  most 
extraordinary  statements  while  under  oath  before  the 
Court.  Among  other  things  it  was  sworn  that  five 
people  who  lived  in  the  vicinity  had  been  made  cross- 
eyed by  looking  on  the  river. 

In  his  private  enterprises,  Mr.  Dexter's  genius  some- 
times outrode  his  resources.  In  other  words,  he  could 
not  always  find  the  means  necessarj^  to  carry  out  his 
plans,  and  so  found  himself,  now  and  then,  in  the  wil- 
derness of  pecuniary  embarrassment ;  a  condition  un- 


THOMAS   DEXTER.  197 

fortunately  by  no  means  uncommon  with  the  most 
enterprising  in  all  times. 
•^>  Perhaps  the  most  notable  of  Mr.  Dexter's  specula- 
tions was  the  purchase  of  Nahant  from  the  Indian 
chief  who  did  honor  to  the  euphonious  English  name 
of  "  Black  Will."  That  charming  headland,  now  so 
extensively  known  and  as  extensively  admired  as  a 
watering  place,  where  on  every  hand  rise  the  costly 
villas  and  nestle  the  unique  cottages  of  the  sons  of 
fortune ;  and  where,  during  the  warm  season,  congre- 
gate the  beauty  and  fashion  of  the  land  —  that  gem  of 
the  blue  ocean,  with  its  magnificent  chfFs,  its  silvery 
beaches  and  green  uplands,  was,  in  1630,  sold  by  Black 
Will  to  Mr.  Dexter  for  a  suit  of  clothes  and  a  jews- 
harp.  The  parties  occupied  nearly  a  whole  day  in 
settling  the  details.  And  it  was  not  till  Mr.  Dexter 
had  gone  four  miles  into  the  woods  and  played  six 
tunes  on  the  harp,  before  the  assembled  tribe,  to  con- 
vince them  that  the  tongue  Avas  not  leather,  that  he 
was  able  to  procure  what  he  conceived  to  be  a  suffi- 
cient title-deed. 

■^  There  was  nothing  remarkable  in  the  mere  act  of 
purchase.  It  w^as  the  after  rumbling  that  elevated  the 
matter  to  the  position  of  an  important  event.  The 
town  treated  the  bargain  as  a  nullity,  declaring,  An- 
dres like,  that  Will's  deed  was  no  better  than  the 
scratch  of  a  bear's  paw.  And  vexatious  litigation 
soon  began  to  drag  its  slow  length  along.  The  cause 
was  finally  determined  against  Mr.  Dexter ;  but  not 
till  years  after  Will  had  worn  out  the  clothes.  The 
jewsharp,  however,  survived,  but  in  a  damaged  state. 
By  constant  use  it  soon  lost  its  tongue  and  was  then 
sold  to  a  neighboring  chief  for  land  enough  to  make  a 
modern  farm,  the  purchaser  coveting  it  as  a  j^ersonal 


198  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

ornament  for  a  favorite  squaw.  So  Will  was  safe  from 
making  restitution,  when  the  title  failed.  And  as  to 
the  quarrel  between,  his  grantee  and  the  town,  he 
cared  not  a  crow  feather  which  beat  in  that.  He  no 
doubt  thought  himself  shrewd.  And  why  should  he 
not  be  praised  for  his  shrewdness  as  well  as  good 
christian  people  when  they  conduct  in  like  manner  ? 

Nahant  was  by  no  means  the  only  land  purchase 
that  Mr.  Dexter  made  of  the  Indians.  He  also  bought 
a  large  tract  lying  about  a  mile  north  of  the  iron  works. 
For  this  he  gave  an  iron  kettle,  a  pewter  spoon,  four 
pumpkin  seeds,  and  one  of  those  never  failing  jews- 
harps.  Our  ancestors  early  found  that  music  had 
charms  for  the  savage ;  and  had  they  possessed  a 
dozen  hand  organs,  they  could  at  once  have  made 
themselves  owners  of  half  the  continent.  The  worst 
thing  about  this  purchase  was,  that  the  Indian  and  Mr. 
Dexter,  while  perambulating  the  bounds,  got  into  a 
quarrel.  Their  combat  took  place  at  the  edge  of  a 
swamp,  near  a  growth  of  dogwood,  and  fortunately  or 
unfortunately  they  seized  the  weapons  nearest  at  hand, 
and  both  became  so  poisoned  in  using  them  that  they 
were  laid  up  for  three  weeks.  The  gross  amount  of 
punishment  was  about  equally  divided  between  them. 
And  it  would  be  highly  beneficial  to  have  all  such 
quarrels  terminate  as  equitably. 

4  Mr.  Dexter's  purchase  of  Nahant,  as  before  inti- 
mated, like  some  of  his  other  speculations,  did  not 
turn  out  to  be  very  profitable.  The  town  having  dis- 
puted his  title,  the  matter  was  kept  fermenting  in  the 
cauldron  of  the  law  for  a  good  while,  till  it  finally  settled 
bright  and  clear  against  him.  A  survey  of  the  whole 
peninsula  was  then  ordered,  and  it  was  laid  out  in  lots, 
which  were  distributed  among  the  inhabitants.     But 


THOMAS    DEXTER.  199 

the  litigation  concerning  Nahant  lands  did  not  end 
with  Mr.  Dexter.  A  taste  was  reserved  even  for  this 
generation.  The  surveyors  were  too  liberal  in  certain 
instances,  here  and  there  throwing  in  little  tracts  to 
compensate  for  deformities  and  deficiencies  of  nature. 
As  the  land  increased  in  value  and  the  proprietors 
began  to  look  up  their  rights,  it  was  found,  on  mea- 
suring, that  in  this  or  that  range  of  lots  there  was 
more  land  than  was  required  to  give  each  his  portion. 
And  as  it  is  generally  as  difficult  to  manage  a  surplus  as 
a  deficiency,  disputes  arose  as  to  the  ownership  of  the 
overplus,  at  once  perplexing  and  irritating.  There 
was  much  scolding;  and  as  to  fighting,  that  has  not 
ceased  to  this  day,  at  least  such  as  could  be  carried  on 
by  the  more  genteel  weapons  of  the  law.  Some,  not 
apprehending  the  true  cause  of  the  difficulty,  declared 
that  the  earth  had  grown  since  the  original  surveys, 
and  that  the  increase  should  be  disposed  of  as  a  gra- 
tuity bestowed  by  nature.  The  more  the  land  i^ 
creased  in  value,  the  more  obstinate  and  acrimonious 
became  the  controversies.  And  though  at  this  day 
most  of  the  territory  is  in  undisputed  possession,  yet 
in  regard  to  the  few  outstanding  claims,  it  may  be  said 
that  they  are  contended  for  with  a  zeal  which,  did  it 
characterise  men's  efforts  to  secure  possessions  in  Para- 
dise would  surely  not  prove  unavailing. 

Myriads  of  cod  fish  sported  in  Massachusetts  Bay  at 
the  time  of  the  earl}'  settlements.  The  noble  promon- 
tory now  known  as  Cape  Cod  took  its  name  from  this 
circumstance.  They  were  easily  taken,  and  soon  came 
to  furnish  q,  profitable  article  of  export.  A  hardy  and 
industrious  race  of  bay  fishermen,  of  whom  the  Third 
Plantation  furnished  her  full  share,  were  early  known. 
And  from  them  uUiraately  grew  the  foreign  marine  of 


200  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

New  England,  the  indomitaLle  naval  material,  the  right 
arm  of  our  nation's  defense.  In  the  early  stages  of  the 
fishing  business  —  to  say  nothing  of  the  late — many 
a  shrewd  landsman  furnished  the  means  for  outfitting, 
and  in  return  had  the  lion's  share  of  profits. 

And  this  leads  to  the  statement  that  we  have  a  lurk- 
ing apprehension,  from  certain  facts  that  have  turned 
up  during  our  historical  researches,  that  Mr.  Dexter, 
in  company  with  his  enterprising  fellow  townsman, 
Thomas  Laighton  —  he  from  whom  the  Laighton  Bank 
takes  its  euphonious  name  —  went  into  the  cod  fishing 
business,  exported  the  fish  to  Barbadoes,  and,  we  say 
it  with  blushes,  sold  them  for  rum.  This  was  a  kind 
of  trade  that  flourished  amazingly,  among  the  morally 
pretentious  colonists  at  a  certain  period. 

The  partnership  of  Dexter  and  Laighton  did  not  ex- 
ist for  a  great  while,  the  former  becoming  dissatisfied 
with  the  result  of  some  speculations.  They  kept  a  small 
store  in  a  little  frame  building  that  stood  where  Ex- 
change Building  now  stands,  on  Market  street.  And 
the  business  of  the  store  was  left  almost  entirely  to 
Mr.  Laighton's  management. 

Now  Mr.  Laighton  was  a  confidence  man  —  not  in 
the  modern  acceptation  of  the  term,  for  both  he  and 
Mr.  Dexter  were  scrupulously  honest  —  but  a  man 
confident  of  his  own  abilities.  He  was  famous  for 
laying  down  maxims  for  the  guidance  of  human  con- 
duct; and  generally,  when  he  showed  his  sincerity  by 
acting  on  them,  found  his  interest  more  or  less  com- 
promised. He  laid  it  down  as  an  invariable  rule,  for 
instance,  that  a  rogue  can  never  look  an  honest  man 
straight  in  the  eye.  Now  rogues  are  not  usually 
bashful  and  can  often  look  honest  men  out  of  counte- 
nance.    It  is  the  naturally  diffident,  such  as  are  com- 


THOMAS   DEXTER.  201 

monlj  found  among  the  most  innocent,  who  are  apt  to 
cast  their  eyes  downward.  As  Mr.  Laighton  held 
tenaciously  to  this  maxim  it  was  not  remarkable  that 
he  should  as  well  put  it  in  the  converse  form,  assuming 
that  all  who  could  look  others  in  the  eye,  were  honest. 
The  absurdity  is  patent  in  this  form  if  not  in  the  other. 
It  would  be  a  better  maxim  to  adopt,  that  all  who 
boast  of  their  ability  to  discern  character  in  any  such 
way,  are  of  the  unsophisticated  school  with  whom  the 
worldly  wise  profess  to  be  less  inclined  to  deal  than 
with  rogues. 

We  remarked  that  the  store  was  almost  entirely 
under  the  management  of  Mr.  Laighton.  And  he  did 
not,  as  do  the  more  ambitious  traders  of  the  present 
day,  deem  it  important,  excepting  in  the  most  busy 
season,  to  be  very  constantly  at  his  post.  He  was 
to  be  found  there  on  rainy  days,  evenings,  an  hour  or 
two  at  noon,  and  at  various  odd  intervals.  Sometimes 
his  neighbors  would  desire  articles  at  such  hours  as 
the  store  was  closed.  They  must  then  look  him  up  at 
his  house,  in  some  workshop  or  on  some  field  of  public 
duty ;  or,  perhaps,  they  would  find  him  seated  in  the 
shade  of  a  tree,  conferring  with  Mr.  Dexter  on  their 
mutual  interests.  And  being  found,  he  might  hand 
them  the  store  key,  and  bid  them  go  and  help  them- 
selves, making  a  charge  of  what  they  took,  upon  the 
day  book,  which  was  usually  kept  lying  open  on  the 
counter,  blurred  and  blotted  by  maple  molasses  and 
sanded  with  dust  and  meal.  But  he  was  never  known 
to  thus  trust  one  who  could  not  look  him  straight  in 
the  eye. 

We  think  these  things  quite  sufficient  to  justify  our 
assertion  that  Mr.  Laighton  was  a  confidence  man. 
But  there  must  have  been  a  blessed  state  of  society  at 
P 


202  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

that  time.  If  one  of  the  traders  whose  elegant  stores 
are  now  upon  the  very  spot  he  occupied  shouhl  fall 
into  his  way  of  conducting  business,  the  whole  capital 
of  Laighton  Bank,  the  good  settler's  own  meraorist, 
would  not  keep  him  afloat  for  six  months. 

We  have  alluded  to  this  foible  of  Mr.  Laighton,  more 
because  of  its  singularity  in  such  a  character,  than 
from  any  particular  instruction  that  is  to  be  drawn 
from  it.  He  was  really  a  man  of  excellent  parts ;  had 
keen  perceptive  powers,  much  natural  intelligence, 
and  a  good  judgment,  well  disciplined  by  a  varied 
experience.  And  his  moral  integrity  was  unques- 
tioned. For  a  number  of  years  he  filled  the  office  of 
Representative  to  the  General  Court  with  credit  to 
himself  and  usefulness  to  his  constituency.  The  foible 
named  only  goes  to  confirm  the  truism  that  there  can 
be  no  human  character  without  its  weak  point.  Taken 
for  all  in  all,  if  one  third  of  the  people  in  the  world 
were  as  good  as  Mr.  Laighton,  the  human  fiimily  could 
boast  of  a  much  better  average  than  we  find. 

The  store  was  an  unpretending  edifice,  without  paint 
or  clapboards,  and  the  front  was  adorned  with  odd  little 
signs  of  different  lengths  and  widths,  announcing  that 
*'  Corne  Meale,"  "  Candells,"  "  Salte  ffish,"  ''  Tooles," 
and  "  Towe  Cloth,"  were  for  sale  within ;  and  also 
that  '^Pype  Staves,"  '' Hoope  Poles,"  and  '' Cydar," 
would  be  taken  in  exchange  for  "  goodes." 

A  noble  beach  tree  stood  in  front  of  the  shop  door, 
spreading  its  patriarchal  branches  to  a  great  extent, 
and  bestowing  the  blessing  of  refreshing  shade.  Near 
its  trunk  were  sundry  rough  troughs  for  the  conve- 
nience of  baiting  hungry  horses.  And  an  oaken  bucket, 
benevolently  provided  for  transporting  water  from  a 
spring  that  bubbled  up  from  beneath  a  rock  on  the 


THOMAS   DEXTER.  203 

other  side  of  the  road,  hung  alluringly  on  a  peg  in 
the  tree.  It  was  an  inviting  spot  to  way-worn  man 
and  beast.  And  often  of  a  summer  noon  an  eminently 
picturesque  scene  was  there  presented.  A  rude  bench 
stood  on  either  side  of  the  shop  door,  for  the  conve- 
nience of  those  village  fathers  who  at  evening  assem- 
bled to  discuss  the  news  and  debate  on  public  affairs. 
And  there,  while  considering  their  glorious  privileges, 
they  would  occasionally  become  so  elated,  as  sponta- 
neously to  break  forth  in  songs  of  pious  joy,  such  as 
would  echo  over  the  little  pond  that  quietly  smiled  in 
its  rushy  zone  a  few  rods  west  of  the  store,  and  roll 
murmuringly  along  the  distant  hills.  And  then  the 
whole  surface  of  the  water  would  become  studded 
with  the  green  heads  of  charmed  bullfrogs,  who,  emu- 
lous of  harmonious  sounds,  would,  after  putting  forth 
their  best  endeavors,  and  failing  to  satisfy  themselves, 
sail  away  to  hide  their  diminished  heads.  It  is  said 
that  Plato  had  such  a  perverted  ear,  or  practical  mind, 
that  he  desired  to  banish  the  heavenly  maid  from  the 
commonwealth.  Luckily  it  was  not  so  with  our  fathers, 
for  had  it  been  they  would  have  failed  to  possess  one 
of  the  most  effectual  of  all  means  for  subduing  the 
savages. 

At  the  risk  of  being  charged  with  digressing  —  a 
thing  of  such  rare  occurrence  in  this  volume  —  we  are 
constrained  to  say  a  word  about  a  very  singular  arti- 
cle that  it  has  been  said  Mr.  Laighton  at  one  time  wore 
for  the  protection  of  his  head,  and  of  the  distressing 
event  that  induced  its  adoption. 

The  article  in  question  was  a  racoon  skin,  all  in  full 
fur,  worn  as  a  wig,  with  the  tail  hanging  down  behind, 
like  an  ill-shapen  cue. 

And  the  disaster  which   rendered  it  necessary  for 


204  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

him  to  adopt  some  such  head  dress  may  be  briefly 
related  in  this  way  : 

One  warm  day  Mr.  Laighton  was  cutting  white  pine 
wood  in  the  Dungeon  Pasture.  He  had  trimmed  some 
of  the  larger  limbs  from  a  huge  tree  and  cleared  away 
the  rougher  bark,  preparatory  to  felling  it,  when,  being 
much  fatigued,  he  concluded  to  partake  of  his  noon 
repast  and  then  indulge  in  a  little  rest.  Having  ac- 
complished the  first,  in  pursuance  of  the  latter,  he 
threw  off  his  hat,  and  seating  himself  near  the  devoted 
tree,  soon  fell  fast  asleep,  his  venerable  head,  often 
weary  from  carrying  its  great  burden  of  knowledge, 
falling  back  against  the  trunk.  His  sleep  was  sound, 
for  he  had  an  undisturbed  conscience,  and  somewhat 
protracted,  insomuch  that  when  he  awoke,  the  declin- 
ing sun  and  cooled  air  betokened  the  near  approach 
of  night.  A  little  startled,  he  was  springing  to  his  feet, 
when  his  head  vv^as  almost  wrenched  from  his  shoulders, 
and  he  perceived  that  by  some  unaccountable  means 
his  meridian  member  had  become  a  real  estate  fix- 
ture. He  put  all  his  philosophy  at  work  to  solve  the 
mystery.  -  It  did  not  seem  consistent  that  his  head 
should  have  suddenly  died,  leaving  his  body  alive ;  so 
he  would  not  entertain  such  an  idea.  Nor  was  it  more 
rational  to  suppose  that  his  head  was  determined  to 
have  a  little  more  of  that  sweet  sleep,  in  spite  of  the 
disturbances  of  its  wakeful  adjuncts. 

In  making  a  second  efi'ort,  however,  his  eyes  became 
literally  opened,  and  so  widely,  that  it  seemed  ques- 
tionable whether  he  would  ever  be  able  to  close  them 
again.     The  mystery  was  solved. 

From  the  Avounds  he  had  inflicted  on  the  tree,  the 
pitch  had  copiously  flowed ;  and  as  the  air  cooled  it 
had  hardened,  holding  the  matted  body  of  his  hair  as 


THOMAS   DEXTER.  205 

firmly  as  the  scalp  held  the  roots.  His  condition  -was 
any  thing  but  agreeable,  no  effort  that  lie  was  able  to 
make,  giving  the  slightest  promise  of  release.  He  had 
no  knife,  and  the  slow  process  of  relieving  himself  by 
his  hands,  even  were  it  possible  to  endure  the  pain  and 
keep  his  arms  in  the  agonising  position  necessar}',  for 
a  sufficient  length  of  time,  seemed  entirely  out  of  the 
question.  He  might  have  starved  to  death  or  been 
eaten  up  by  wild  beasts  before  he  could  have  effected 
any  thing  in  that  way. 

By  all  that  appeared  he  would  be  obliged  to  remain 
a  prisoner  at  least  for  the  night,  and  perhaps  be  forced 
in  his  crippled  condition  to  defend  himself  against  sav- 
age beasts  and  satanic  emissaries,  the  woods  at  that 
time  abounding  in  such  gentry.  In  the  extremity  of 
terror,  arising  from  reflection  on  his  dangers,  he  roared 
out  in  such  a  strain  as  to  induce  the  most  terrific  re- 
sponses from  far  and  near. 

Presently,  with  mingled  feelings  of  joy  and  appre- 
hension, Mr.  Laighton  perceived,  stealthily  emerging 
from  the  thicket,  a  stalwart  Indian.  The  red  man 
grinned  at  his  contortions,  and  approached  with  some 
boldness,  for  he  could  perceive  from  the  writhings  of 
the  body  and  the  fixedness  of  the  head,  that  from 
the  latter  at  least  there  was  not  much  to  be  feared. 
Mr.  Laighton  at  once  hailed  his  red  brother,  and  gave 
him  to  understand  that  he  desired  a  little  christian  aid. 
But  this  appeal  not  exactly  striking  home  to  the  dusky 
heart,  as  was  indicated  by  a  surly  grunt,  he  without 
more  ado  threw  himself  upon  the  Indian's  generosity 
and  honor  as  a  man,  a  fellow  being;  taking,  in  short, 
the  course  that  very  many  do  when  they  are  in  a 
strait  and  cannot  help  themselves.  And  the  since- 
rity of  Mr.  Laighton's  appeal  was  evidenced  by  a  copi- 


206  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

OTIS  flow  of  tears.  It  used  to  be  said  that  tears  were 
a  great  dread  to  the  Indians ;  and  that  nothing  on 
earth  could  cause  them  to  shed  any,  but  the  tooth 
ache.  Be  that  as  it  may,  Mr.  Laighton  succeeded  in 
gaining  the  friendly  offices  of  the  one  who  had  so 
opportunely  appeared. 

"  Me  vum,"  growled  the  savage,  "  Master  Lakum  in 
ye  stocks,  jest  as  poor  Indjan  was.  Now  me  give  him 
a  dam  preach." 

This  last  was  in  allusion  to  the  circumstance  that 
when  that  same  Indian  was  once  undergoing  the  use- 
ful discipline  of  the  stocks,  Mr.  Laighton  had  his  chris- 
tian  sympathies  so  stirred  that  he  stood  for  an  hour 
in  the  broiling  sun  lecturing  him  on  the  danger  of  his 
sinful  ways. 

The  red  rascal  now  planted  himself  before  his  victim, 
and  went  on  with  a  "  preach,"  more  plain  than  pleasant. 
It  contained  all  the  tattle  and  slander  that  he  had 
picked  up  during  his  many  visits  to  the  settlement. 
The  charge  on  which  the  dusky  orator  dwelt  with  tho 
most  passionate  ardor  was  that  of  his  having  sold  a 
leather  tongued  jewsharp  to  an  Indian.  But  another 
charge,  which  seemed  to  be  considered  hardly  sec- 
ond in  importance  to  this,  was  that  of  his  having,  in 
conjunction  with  Mr.  Dexter,  sent  Indian  prisoners, 
taken  in  the  wars,  to  the  West  Indies,  with  their 
salt  fish,  and  sold  them  for  the  same  sort  of  return 
cargo  that  they  sold  the  fish.  That  such  nefarious 
things  were  done  by  some  of  the  christian  colonists 
we  are  afraid  is  undeniable.  But  there  is  no  reason 
that  we  can  find  to  suppose  that  any  thing  of  the  kind 
was  ever  done  hereabouts.  This  Indian  had  probably 
somewhere  heard  of  the  horrible  traffick  and  used  the 
information  to  embellish  his  discourse.     And  do  not 


THOMAS   DEXTER.  207 

we  behold,  in  tliese  enlightened  times,  quite  as  ques- 
tionable a  way  of  embellishing  often  resorted  to  ? 

The  dusky  orator's  discourse  was  delivered  with 
great  unction.  And  having  finished,  he  drew  his  knife, 
saying,  "  Now  me  let  Master  Lakum  out  ye  stocks." 

With  a  ceremony  in  imitation  of  the  proceedings  on 
the  release  of  a  culprit  from  the  stocks,  and  brandish- 
ing his  weapon  in  a  mysterious  way,  the  Indian  ap- 
proached the  tree.  Scarcely  had  he  looked  down  on 
that  defenseless  head,  when  all  the  sanguinary  impulses 
of  his  cruel  nature  became  aroused.  And  he  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  to  become  possessor  of  one 
more  white  man's  scalp.  With  the  rapidity  of  light- 
ning his  knife  flew  to  its  favorite  work ;  the  warm 
blood  gushed  along  the  artistic  curve ;  and  then,  in 
completion  of  the  labor,  he  set  up  a  frightful  yell,  at  the 
same  time  pricking  his  victim  in  the  back.  Mr.  Laigh- 
ton,  not  doubting  that  the  savage  intended  to  kill  him 
outright,  gave  a  desperate  spring.  And  away  he  went, 
freed  from  durance  and  freed  also  from  his  scalp,  with 
the  speed  of  a  camel,  off  towards  Tomlins's  Swamp. 
And  there  remained  the  grinning  Indian  unloosing  the 
venerable  scalp  from  the  old  pine  tree. 

The  red  villain  was  never  seen  in  the  Plantation 
afterward. 

Mr.  Laighton's  dreadful  wound  healed  in  due  time. 
He  found  it  convenient  to  adopt  the  comical  substitute 
before  named,  the  racoon  skin,  for  the  natural  covering 
of  his  head ;  and  though  singular  in  its  appearance 
it  excited  mirth  in  no  one,  for  all  knew  of  the  calam-^ 
itous  event  that  called  it  into  use. 

We  remarked,  a  few  pages  back,  that  there  is  cause 
for  suspicion  that  Messrs.  Dexter  and  Laighton  were 
engaged,  to  some  extent,  in  th;it  discreditable  Barba- 


208  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

does  traffick.  The  Barbadoes  rum  was  tlie  true  ''  fire 
water  "  of  the  Indians.  And  it  was  imported  in  such 
quantities  as  to  become  a  terrible  scourge  to  New 
England,  not  only  as  regarded  the  colonists  themselves 
but  also  the  miserable  Indians.  Had  Hugh  Peters  seen 
things  as  they  certainly  were  here  at  one  period,  his 
conscience  never  would  have  permitted  him  to  make 
the  boastful  statement  that  he  did  to  Parliament,  to 
wit,  that  he  had  lived  seven  years  in  New  England, 
and  had  not  heard  a  profane  oath  nor  seen  a  drunken 
man  in  all  that  time.  These  seven  years  were  probably 
from  1635  to  1G42.  And  it  gives  us  pleasure  to  add 
that  most  of  his  time  was  spent  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
Third  Plantation. 

But  there  seems  to  have  come  from  Barbadoes 
something  besides  fire  water,  that  greatly  troubled 
the  colonists.  The  first  Quakers  that  appeared  in 
New  England  came  from  that  productive  island ;  the 
first,  at  least,  who  openly  professed  themselves  of  that 
order.  It  was  in  1G56  that  Ann  Austin  and  Mary 
Fisher  arrived  and  commenced  promulgating  those 
doctrines  that  ultimately  created  such  a  ferment. 

A  biographer  never  fully  performs  his  duty  without 
treating  to  some  extent  of  the  personal  appearance  of 
bis  Subject.  The  reader  is  always  pleased  with  this, 
for  if  the  character  is  a  worthy  one,  it  facilitates  his 
power  to  trace  resemblances  in  himself;  and  if  an 
■unworthy  one  it  aids  him  in  the  pleasant  occupation 
of  tracing  resemblances  in  his  neighbors. 

In  Mr.  Dexter's  physical  construction  there  was 
nothing  very  remarkable.  His  forehead  was  full,  with 
a  vertical  wrinkle  or  two,  rather  expressive  of  con- 
fiicts  within.  His  gently  bulging  nose,  slightly  rubi- 
cund, and  shining  as  if  kept  well  varnished,  stood  out 


THOMAS   DEXTEK.  209 

in  rather  more  than  ordinary  prominence  from  the  facial 
plain  of  sandy  red.  His  eyes  were  gray  and  deeply  set 
in  their  sockets,  surrounded  by  ruddy  circles,  indica- 
tive of  inflammation,  occasioned,  it  might  be,  by  expo- 
sure to  the  weather ;  or,  perhaps,  by  overstraining 
from  looking  at  Saugus  river.  His  hair  was  thick  and 
bushy,  and  while  he  was  yet  in  middle  life,  took  pity 
on  the  lonesome  condition  of  his  eyes  and  changed  so 
as  to  bear  them  company  in  color.  He  interposed  no 
obstruction  to  its  growth,  in  defiance  of  the  law  for- 
bidding that  any  man's  hair  should  extend  below  his 
ears,  and  kindly  avoided  disturbing  its  equanimity, 
on  ordinary  occasions,  by  any  comb  finer  than  his 
spread  fingers.  His  noble  beard,  too,  was  treated 
with  great  consideration.  He  would  as  soon  have 
thought  of  clipping  his  ears  as  that.  In  form,  he  cer- 
tainly approached  the  faultless.  His  chest  was  broad 
and  full,  and  his  arms  and  nether  extremities  would 
have  done  honor  to  a  gladiator.  On  the  whole,  we 
feel  fully  justified  in  pronouncing  Mr.  Dexter  a  man 
of  more  than  ordinarily  commanding  presence. 

We  have  remarked  that  we  hold  it  important  for  a 
biographer  to  describe  the  physical  peculiarities  of  his 
Subject  just  as  they  are,  and  given  cogent  reasons 
therefor.  And  it  is  desirable  further  to  say  that  in 
these  days  of  scientific  light  a  more  perfect  idea  of 
character  may  be  thus  formed  than  by  any  details  of 
actions.  The  old  fashioned  idea  that  a  man's  doings 
are  to  certify  what  his  character  is,  has  exploded.  His 
phrenological  or  physiognomical  developments  are  to 
determine  the  question.  And  we  have  found  it  neces- 
sary in  keeping  pace  with  the  progress  of  science  to 
somewhat  mar  the  fair  face  even  of  our  big  Bible  by 
annotations.     For  instance,  after  Dr.  Trapplescorn,  the 

14 


210  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

phrenologist,  was  here,  against  the  passage  declaring 
that  by  their  works  we  may  know  men,  we  had  to  put, 
''  Mem.  By  their  heads  we  must  know  them."  Then 
came  Dr.  Addlesop,  the  physiognomist,  and  we  had  to 
put  again,  "  Mem.  2d.  By  their  faces  we  must  know 
them."  After  Professor  Hodgcapp,  the  geologist,  was 
here,  against  the  passage  in  Exodus,  xx.  11,  '' For  in 
six  days,"  &c.  we  had  to  wn-ite,  ''  For  in  six  periods 
each  of  six  hundred  thousand  years,  more  or  less,"  &c. 
True,  it  made  mischief  in  another  way ;  for  what  be- 
comes of  the  seventh  day,  the  good  old  Sabbath  which 
men  for  so  many  ages  have  delighted  to  honor?  But 
then  what  is  the  Sabbath  when  it  opposes  the  theo- 
retical deductions  of  masters  in  science? 

Like  most  men  of  philosophical  turn,  in  the  matter 
of  dress  Mr.  Dexter  thought  less  of  appearance  than 
of  comfort  or  convenience.  As  it  was  sai'd  of  one  that 
he  did  not  live  to  eat  but  ate  to  live,  so  of  our  Subject 
it  may  be  said,  he  did  not  live  to  dress  but  dressed  to 
live.  His  coat  of  gray  woolen  was  indulged  with  an 
airing  on  Sundays  and  other 'notable  occasions.  And 
his  brown  velvet  small-clothes,  with  their  graceful 
continuances,  all  fashioned  in  the  father  land,  received 
the  same  favors,  illustrating  the  benefit  of  being  ad- 
junctive to  greatness.  But  the  every  day  habiliments 
of  Mr.  Dexter  were  not  such  as  to  distinguish  him^as 
a  Brummel.  A  homespun  fi>o*ck,  from  beneath  which 
protruded  a  pair  of  boots  of  uncurried  leather,  enor- 
mous in  size  and  grotesque  in  shape,  and  a  scarf  of 
striped  cloth  about  the  neck  were  the  chief  things 
observable,  save  the  round  topped  hat,  with  immense 
brim,  flabby  and  flapping.  As  he  walked,  that  brim 
would  beat  on  his  shoulders  like  an  elephant's  ears ; 
and  if  he  ran,  it  would  play  such  pranks  as  to  greatly 


THOMAS   DEXTER.  211 

ofifencl  the  eyes.  To  obviate  this  difficulty,  he  some- 
times resorted  to  the  expedient  of  passing  a  piece  of 
cod-line  over  the  crown  and  tying  it  under  the  chin; 
thus  making  all  taut,  as  the  sailors  say.  And  when- 
ever this  was  done  the  rebellious  eyes  would  readily 
return  to  duty,  congratulating  the  ears  on  their  pros- 
pect of  protection  from  the  cold. 

We  have  said  something  of  Mr.  Dexter's  ancestry ; 
and  a  word  or  two  may  be  added.  He  belonged  to  a 
very  ancient  family,  which  can  be  traced  to  the  times 
of  the  Plantagenets.  In  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  they 
stirred  up  great  political  strife  in  Anglesey,  and  one 
restless  spirit  would  have  found  his  head  and  four 
quarters  suddenly  parting  company  had  he  not  claimed 
benefit  of  clergy.  The  success  of  the  claim  proves 
that  thougji  he  may  have  been  a  villain  he  yet  had 
some  learning ;  probably  about  the  .amount  that  makes 
it  a  dangerous  thing.  At  any  rate  he  had  some,  for 
no  one  was  entitled  to  that  inestimable  benefit,  who 
could  not  at  least  write.  That  singular  subterfuge, 
the  tegis  under  which  every  species  of  roguery  flour- 
ished, and  which  from  its  origin  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
continued  for  centuries,  sprang  from  the  mysterious 
reverence  for  learning  whicb  even  now  is  often  found 
to  exist  in  the  uncultivated  mind.  Any  criminal,  even 
up  to  a  murderer,  could  escape  punishment  from  the 
temporal  power,  by  claiming  his  benefit  of  clergy, 
though  he  may  have  been  already  convicted  in  a  law 
court.  On  setting  up  the  claim,  he  was  handed  over 
to  the  ecclesiastical  power,  which,  perhaps  inflicting 
the  terrific  punishment  of  excommunication,  let  him 
run.  If  he  was  sufficiently  learned  to  write  his  name, 
he  was  entitled  to  the  benefit,  though  he  might  not  be 
able  to  intelligibly  read  his  Bible,  or  was  beyond  caring 


212  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

for  its  teaching  if  he  could.  And  progressive  Massa- 
chusetts seemed  to  have  waked  to  a  similar  reverence 
for  learning  when  in  1857  she  amended  her  constitu- 
tion so  as  to  deny  the  right  of  voting  to  those  who 
could  not  read  and  write. 

Perhaps  the  benefit  of  clergy  would  have  shed  its 
sanctified  light  on  our  day  had  not  that  magnanimous 
sovereign,  Henry  VIII,,  shaken  off  the  old  popish  har- 
ness because  his  Holiness  would  not  sanction  his 
villanies  in  the  matrimonial  line.  The  unswerving 
determination  of  Clement  VII.  to  firmly  oppose  such 
great  \vrongs  as  those  committed  by  Henry,  made  the 
world  stare,  and  should  have  been  more  justly  repre- 
sented and  more  honored  than  it  has  been  by  some 
historians.  When  he  knowingly  lost  the  allegiance  of 
a  kingdom,  by  a  course  of  unflinching  justice,  as  in- 
stanced in  the  cases  of  Catharine  of  Aragon  and  Anne 
Boleyn,  something  better  should  be  said  than  that  he 
had  no  political  sagacity  and  was  not  fit  to  govern. 
It  should  have  been  said  that  he  chose  rather  to  lose 
England,  with  all  her  power,  than  sanction  the  dis- 
graceful immorality  and  meanness  of  her  sovereign. 
But  mankind  have  not  yet  arrived  at  that  blessed  con- 
dition where  it  is  possible  for  some  individuals  to 
conceive  that  others  can  have  such  a  strong  sense  of 
right  that  temporal  advantage  cannot  overcome  it. 
Such  Ephraims  do  not  understand  how  any  one  can 
do  right  merely  because  it  is  pleasing  to  God  and 
their  own  consciences. 

But  we  are  admonished  to  draw  this  sketch  to  a 
close.  Little  has  been  said  of  Mr.  Dexter's  domestic 
relations,  and  little  need  be  said.  He  did  not  rear  a 
large  family ;  neither  was  he  childless.  A  few  very 
worthy   descendants   might  be  named,  showing  that 


THOMAS   DEXTER.  213 

what  was  lacking  in  quantity  was  amply  made  np  m 
quality.  In  most  families  the  rule  works  the  other  way. 
When  the  head  begins  to  whiten  it  is  time  for  the 
asperities  to  begin  to  soften.  But  is  not  the  reverse 
most  frequently  the  case?  Mr,  Dexter,  in  his  old  age, 
had  the  reputation  of  being  somewhat  testy.  And  he 
certainly  did  occasionally  flourish  his  staff  in  a  manner 
better  calculated  to  repel  than  attract,  and  express  his 
views  m  a  tone  that  evinced  little  anxiety  to  keep  his 
affairs  private.  Now  an  ill-tempered  old  man  is  a 
very  pitiable  object;  almost  as  much  so  as  an  ill-tem- 
pered old  woman.  But  things  are  often  called  by 
wrong  names.  We  are  persuaded  that  our  Subject 
was  to  a  considerable  extent  misunderstood ;  though 
we  frankly  admitted  in  the  outset  that,  unfortunately, 
he  was  quick  of  temper ;  a  failing  by  no  means  always 
evidence  of  a  bad  heart.  He  grew  old;  and  having 
been  in  his  progress  through  life  so  constantly  sub- 
jected to  the  rougher  usage  of  fortune,  to  the  super- 
ficial observer  he  might  have  seemed  as  if  the  kindlier 
sympathies  of  humanity  had  been  beaten  out  of  him. 
Yet,  we  insist  upon  it,  he  had  a  heart  capable  of  being 
deeply  touched  by  real  wo.  He  would,  indeed,  like 
the  great  moralist  who  flourished  a  hundred  and  more 
years  after  him,  laugh  or  scold  at  one  who  complained 
of  the  minor  annoyances  of  life;  of  heat  or  cold;  of  ill 
or  even  scant  fare;  of  the  ordinary  aches  and  pains; 
more  especially,  he  gave  no  quarter  to  such  as  suffered 
from  wounded  pride  or  defeated  ambition.  But  no 
one  was  more  ready  than  he  to  visit  the  widow  and 
fatherless  when  truly  afflicted,  or  to  minister  to  all  such 
as  were  in  real  distress  of  mind,  body  or  estate.  And 
are  there  not  many  such  around  us,  who  yet  pass  with 
the  undiscerning  as  mean  and  unfeeling? 


214  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

It  is  a  great  comfort  to  a  man  to  have  a  liigli  appre- 
ciation of  his  own  vahie  in  the  world.  And  besides 
being  a  comfort  to  himself,  how  agreeable  it  renders 
bim  to  those  with  whom  he  associates.  Very  much  is 
lost  by  undue  modesty.  And  we  are  glad  in  being 
able  to  point  to  Mr.  Dexter  as  one  who  was  not  par- 
ticularly prone  to  the  too  common  weakness  of  under- 
valuing himself.  About  all  the  great  achievements  in 
the  world  are  effected  by  two  classes :  First,  those 
who  deem  themselves  mere  instruments  of  Providence, 
placed  here  to  accomplish  certain  work  to  which  they 
are  specially  ordained,  without  any  power  of  them- 
selves to  change  their  course ;  and  being  unceasingly 
guided  towards  the  great  object.  These  generally 
work  with  zeal,  in  view  of  meriting  the  high  prize  of 
the  approbation  of  their  great  Director.  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  was  one  eminent  example  of  this  class. 
And  Martin  Luther  was  another.  The  second  class 
embraces  those  who  appear  to  think  that  they  of  them- 
selves are  equal  to  any  thing  ever  heard  of  in  the  world, 
and  grapple  with  the  greatest  enterprises,  as  most  wor- 
thy of  their  efforts,  fully  persuaded  of  their  own  power 
to  will  and  to  do.  It  is  not  necessary  to  give  exam- 
ples of  this  class ;  they  are  common  enough  all  about. 
But  it  may  be  well  to  add  that  Mr.  Dexter  appears  to 
have  been  by  nature  located  with  these  latter.  Mixed 
characters  accomplish  least. 

That  Mr.  Dexter  was  a  little  off  the  track  occasion- 
ally, in  other  respects  than  those  named,  it  should  in 
honesty  be  admitted.  But  we  are  happy  to  believe 
that  he  sowed  his  wilder  oats  in  early  life.  In  the 
records  of  the  Court  held  at  Boston,  October  1,  1633, 
Ave  find  this :  "  It  is  ordered  that  S^'ient  Perkins  shall 
carry  40  turfes  to  the  ffort  as  a  punishmt  for  drunkenes 


THOMAS    DEXTER.  215 

by  him  comitted."  And,  "  Also,  it  is  ordered  that 
Thomas  Dexter  shalbe  ffined  xxs.  for  the  like  offence." 
It  will  be  observed  that  this  false  step  took  place  at  a 
very  early  period.  And  though  some  twelve  years 
afterward  he  appears  to  have  been  fined  as  "  a  common 
sleeper  in  meetings,"  we  have  abundant  reason  to 
conclude  that  he  forswore  his  cups.  Had  he  been  an 
intemperate  man,  he  certainly  could  not  have  accom- 
plished what  he  did,  for  we  have  the  conclusive  autho- 
rity of  scripture  for  saying  that  such  err  in  vision  and 
stumble  in  judgment.  And  who  will  say  that  Mr.  Dex- 
ter erred  and  stumbled  in  those  ways,  save  in  the  few 
instances  we  have  been  faithful  to  name.  No,  no, 
he  must  have  reformed,  if,  indeed  the  instance  record- 
•ed,  were  not  a  solitary  instance  of  inebriation  during 
his  whole  life  —  a  mere  inadvertence,  such  as  happens 
not  unfrequently  in  these  days,  according  to  the  state- 
ments constantly  heard  in  our  courts. 

As  has  probably  been  inferred,  Mr.  Dexter  was 
rather  inclined  to  change  in  his  pursuits.  The  adage, 
"A  rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss,"  was  as  well  known 
in  his  day  as  it  is  in  this.  But  he  was  sensible  enough 
to  realize  that  the  stone  might  have  some  pleasure  in 
rolling,  and  that  there  were  many  things  to  be  prized 
more  highly  than  the  moss  of  mammon. 

The  normal  state  of  man  is  laziness.  Thus  we  see 
that  in  those  countries  where  little  or  no  exertion  is 
necessary  to  procure  a  livelihood,  men  pass  their  time 
basking  in  the  sunshine,  like  crocodiles.  Industry  is 
one  of  the  most  excellent  of  all  acquisitions,  for  it 
opens  to  the  individual  numerous  sources  of  enjoy- 
ment and  adds  materially  to  the  progress  of  the  species. 
Mr.  Dexter  was  a  most  industrious  man.  There  was 
no  stagnant  blood  in  his  veins.     And  being  shrewd 


216  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

enough  to  observe  that  those  who  work  with  their 
hands  alone,  generally  remain  in  penury,  he  constantly 
availed  himself  of  the  efficient  Services  of  the  brain. 
Both  brain  and  hands  were  kept  in  vigorous  motion. 
And  we  have  seen  something  of  what  he  accomplished. 
But  it  is  a  shame  on  any  man  to  be  industrious  merely 
to  accumulate  wealth,  to  be  hoarded  up  or  expended  in 
dainty  food  and  costly  raiment,  to  say  nothing  of  more 
sensual  indulgence.  If  no  higher  purpose  can  call 
one's  energies  into  action  they  might  as  well  remain 
dormant.  We  have  seen  how  unselfish  Mr.  Dexter  was, 
and  how  much  he  endeavored  for  the  benefit  of  gen- 
erations that  were  to  come  after  him. 

Notwithstanding  the  foibles  —  faults  if  we  must  so 
call  them  —  that  we  have  alluded  to,  Mr.  Dexter  ap- 
pears to  have  been  esteemed  a  good  neighbor  and 
useful  citizen.  He  did  his  full  share  in  supporting  the 
ministry,  and  was  ready  with  his  means  to  aid  in  evan- 
gelizing the  heathen  around  him.  And  he  strove  hard 
to  overcome  the  evil  propensities  of  his  nature.  Many 
a  time,  when  he  felt  himself  most  weak  before  the 
crafts  and  assaults  of  the  Devil,  did  he  in  humble  trust 
seek  the  christian  counsel  and  prayers  of  the  good 
minister,  Mr.  Whiting.  Had  it  not  been  for  that  im- 
pulsive temper,  he  might  have  passed  life  more  pleas- 
antly. But  he  fought  bravely  against  the  evil  spirit  to 
the  end,  and  went  to  his  final  rest  in  the  panoply  of 
christian  faith  and  hope. 


PHILII^    KEIITLA.ND. 

•'Some  move  with  neither  noise  nor  speed, 

along  life's  crooked  path, 
Who  yet  may  drop  some  wayside  seed, 

that  springs  to  mightie  growth." 

Another  jewel  of  the  Third  Plantation  was  Philip 
Kertland.  He  came  during  the  first  decade  of  the 
settlement,  and  is  represented  to  have  been  the  first 
shoemaker  in  Lynn.  From  this  circumstance,  if  for 
no  other  reason  we  feel  in  duty  bound  to  do  some- 
thing in  honor  of  his  memory.  Little  appears  on  the 
regular  records,  concerning  him,  and  for  most  that  we 
are  able  to  state  we  are  indebted  to  casual  notes  and 
traditions.  His  is  said  to  be  a  German  name,  the 
translation  of  which  is  Lack-land.  But  he  did  not 
long  lack  land  after  coming  here,  for  ten  acres  were 
granted  him, in  1638. 

All  New  England,  yea,  the  whole  country  should 
make  obeisance  to  the  Third  Plantation,  and  do  rev- 
erence to  Philip  Kertland ;  the  first,  because  she  early 
encouraged  ingenuity  and  enterprise ;  and  the  latter, 
because  he  spent  his  best  energies  in  perfecting  a 
most  useful  art.  And  both  their  names  should  be 
exalted  for  the  blessings  conferred  by  the  establish- 
ment of  that  great  branch  of  American  industry  from 
which  has  been  derived  so  much  wealth  to  one  class 
and  comfort  to  all  others.  Lynn  not  only  encouraged 
J  (217) 


218  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

the  manufacture  of  shoes  at  an  early  period,  but  also 
that  of  various  kinds  of  leather.  Here  was  first  estab- 
lished the  manufacture  of  those  beautiful  moroccos 
that  used  to  adorn  the  feet  of  the  belles  of  olden 
time,  and  are  devoted  to  so  many  elegant  purposes, 
at  the  present  day,  besides  the  protection  of  beautiful 
feet. 

Of  Mr.  Kertland's  early  life  we  need  say  but  little; 
though  one  or  two  remarkable  things  require  some 
notice.  It  may  be  observed  that  when  about  five 
years  old,  he  one  day  strayed  into  his  father's  pasture, 
to  indulge  for  a  while  in  the  boyish  pastime  of  twitch- 
ing a  bull's  tail.  Perhaps,  however,  he  was,  like  a 
young  philosopher,  endeavoring  to  elucidate  the  prob- 
lem as  to  how  far  such  an  animal  might  be  thrown  by 
the  caudal  appendage,  for  he  had  often  heard  his 
father,  who  was  quite  a  moralist,  allude  to  such  grace- 
ful experiments.  But  whatever  his  object  Avas,  the 
bull  does  not  appear  to  have  favored  its  furtherance. 
He  gave  a  kick  that  sent  little  Philip  rolling  like  an 
ill-shaped  ball,  into  a  ditch.  By  this  accident  the  nose 
was  so  damaged  that  it  ever  after  sat  awry.  His  per- 
sonal appearance  was  thereby  somewhat  impaired  ;  but 
bej^ond  that  and  a  slight  difficulty  in  ccfmpassing  a 
genteel  sneeze,  he  perhaps  experienced  no  evil.  For 
most  purposes  it  was  as  good  a  nose  as  need  be.  A 
handsome  man  is  an  ornament  to  any  community. 
And  in  those  rare  cases  where  beauty  of  character  is 
added  we  behold  an  object  envied  by  men  and  adored 
by  women ;  for  we  do  not  accept  the  slanderous  decla- 
ration of  the  ostentatious  moralist,  regarding  the  latter, 
that  with  them,  character  never  rules  in  competition 
with  person. 

It  certainly  must  be   confessed  that  Mr.  Kertland 


PHILIP   KERTLAND.  219 

was  not  a  handsome  man,  and  we  shall  not  rest  his 
claims  upon  his  beauty.  But  speaking  of  personal 
appearance  leads  to  the  remark  that  it  seems  very 
foolish  for  people  to  cry  out  so  against  what  they 
unfortunately  denominate  pride  of  person.  But  then 
envy  Avill  rankle  in  the  human  breast,  and  the  tongue 
of  slander  will  wag.  There  is  not  an  individual  living, 
in  full  possession  of  his  senses,  who  does  not  feel  the 
influence  of  personal  charms.  It  is  thought  commend- 
able to  admire  a  beautiful  landscape,  or  even  a  picture 
of  it,  or  a  piece  of  marble  chiseled  out  in  graceful 
form.  Why,  then,  is  it  wrong  to  do  homage  to  beauty 
in  the  most  dignified  object  of  creation?  Personal 
beauty  will  often  purchase  what  no  money  can  ;  and  is 
it  not,  in  its  nature,  of  quite  as  much  value  as  money? 

Martin  Luther  spoke  of  beauty  as  a  noble  gift,  and 
added,  "  God  commonly  gives  riches  to  gross  asses,  to 
whom  he  can  afford  nothing  else."  Perhaps  it  was 
well  for  Christianity  that  he  was  thus  susceptible,  for 
the  smiles  of  a  pretty  nun  inflamed  his  zeal  for  the 
Eeformation.  The  shrewd  Cobbett  remarked  that  the 
surest  thing  to  make  a  man  feel  good  natured  all  day 
is  for  him  to  look  upon  a  handsome  face  in  a  night-cap, 
beside  him,  in  the  morning.  There  is  much  truth  in 
these  things.  The  arguments  of  bright  eyes  and  rosy 
cheeks  have  overcome  many  a  man  when  nothing  else 
on  earth  could.  The  wisest  are  not  above  their  influ- 
ence. Look  at  Solomon.  Handsome  men,  as  well  as 
handsome  women  are  the  most  successful  in  life.  And 
now,  reader,  what  would  yon  take  in  exchange  for 
those  personal  charms  of  yours  ? 

Mr.  Laighton,  of  whom  we  said  something  in  our 
sketch  of  Thomas  Dexter,  appears  to  have  been  on 
very  friendly  terms  with  Mr.  Kertland.     The  two  spent 


220  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

many  profitable  hours  in  discussing  great  philosophical 
principles  as  well  as  important  theological  points,  some- 
times in  one  of  their  shops,  and  sometimes  in  the  shade 
of  a  tree.  Mr.  Kertland  became  a  thorough  convert 
to  Mr.  Laighton's  maxim  that  no  rogue  can  look  an 
honest  man  straight  in  the  eye,  and  that  all  who  can 
look  others  straight  in  the  eye  are  honest.  And  the 
following  little  incident  will  illustrate  the  benefit  he 
derived  on  one  occasion  at  least,  from  his  adherence 
to  the  maxim : 

A  sort  O'f  fair  M^as  to  be  held  at  Boston,  and  Mr. 
Kertland  went  up  for  the  purpose  of  purchasing  a  new 
milch  cow.  He  shrewdly  suspected  that  there  might 
be  rogues  about  on  such  an  occasion,  and  made  bold 
to  proclaim  his  suspicions  to  all  the  assembly,  adding, 
however,  that  he  defied  them  all  to  cheat  him,  as  the 
maxim,  which  he  discreetly  repeated,  would  enable 
him  to  keep  safe  from  any  rogue  in  the  crowd.  Hav- 
ing thus  defined  his  position,  he  began  to  look  round, 
all  the  while  keeping  his  eyes  wide  open,  for  the  return 
gaze  of  the  honest  ones  who  might  be  straying  there. 
Presently  he  discovered  a  tidy  looking  brindle  with  a 
lusty  calf  by  her  side.  And  he  was  delighted  to  find 
that  the  man  in  whose  keeping  they  were,  could  look 
him  straight  in  the  eye.  Without  much  haggling  a 
bargain  was  concluded.  Having  a  little  other  business 
to  transact,  he  requested  the  vendor  to  keep  his  pur- 
chase in  charge  till  he  returned.  This  was  kindly 
agreed  to. 

Having  concluded  his  other  business,  Mr.  Kertland 
returned,  and  there  stood  the  cow,  but  the  calf  was 
gone.  Not  suspecting  any  trick  of  trade,  he  desired 
the  man  to  trot  out  the  calf  and  he  would  be  gone,  for 
his  way  was  long  and  the  clouds  betokened  rain. 


I'HILIP   KERTLAND.  221 

With  well  feigned  surprise  tlie  honest  drover  replied 
that  he  did  not  sell  the  calf,  for  the  very  good  reason 
that  it  was  not  his  ;  neither  did  the  little  beauty  belong 
to  the  cow.  It  had  been  borrowed  from  a  neighboring 
stall,  and  now  was  back  with  its  mamma  whose  anxious 
lowings  during  its  absence  had  greatly  disturbed  their 
tender  hearts.  And  the  conscientious  man  further 
reminded  h!s  customer  that  not  one  word  was  said  by 
him  about  the  calf  while  they  were  negotiating.  With 
great  frankness,  however,  he  admitted  that  his  cus- 
tomer did  remark  that  a  cow  with  a  calf  just  ready  for 
the  butcher  was  exactly  what  he  wanted,  and  that  he 
felt  of  little  red-and-white  and  commended  his  fatness. 
But  he  did  not  feel  himself  bound  to  respond  to  the 
compliments  paid  to  the  calf.  And  with  some  warmth 
the  man  concluded  by  reiterating  that  the  cow  only 
was  sold,  and  the  calf  had  already  gone  back  to  its 
restless  parent,  and  he  did  not  see  why  he  should 
be  held  responsible  for  the  purchaser's  being  deceived 
by  appearances.  Were  not  appearances  often  deceit- 
ful ?  They  were  so  ;  Mr.  Whiting  had  fixed  that  fact 
by  a  luminous  discourse  which  he  had  preached  on 
the  very  Lord's-day  before. 

Mr.  Kertland  felt  the  force  of  the  drover's  curt  rea- 
soning, and  his  anger  was  wonderfully  softened.  But 
he  was  greatly  puzzled,  after  all.  The  man  looked 
him  straight  in  the  eye  while  speaking,  and  expressed 
regret  that  he  should  have  been  deceived.  Yet  it 
was  clear  that  he  had  not  only  been  deceived,  but 
grossly  cheated.  The  drover  would  not  hear  to  any 
proposition  to  rescind  the  bargain,  for,  as  he  said,  the 
day  was  far  spent  and  another  customer  might  not 
appear. 

Mr.  Kertland's  perplexity  again  developed  itself  in 


222  NOTABLE  PEOPLE. 

extreme  anger.  And  he  promptly  announced  his  deter- 
mination to  whip  every  one  present.  A  crowd  began 
to  gather.  Presently,  at  the  suggestion  of  a  peace-mak- 
ing though  perhaps  thirsty  individual,  a  reference  was 
agreed  on.  There  was  no  difficulty  in  selecting  three 
arbitrators,  for  Mr.  Kertland  had  but  one  test  of  their 
honesty,  and  the  first  that  presented  themselves  could 
look  in  the  attractive  direction  demanded  -by  the  test. 
The  drover  himself  offered  no  objection,  to  those  fixed 
on,  for  they  were  all  brother  drovers.  The  red  faced 
trio  chosen  seated  themselves  on  the  edge  of  a  horse 
trough,  the  owner  of  the  calf  acting  as  chairman,  and 
had  the  points  in  dispute  formally  presented  to  them. 

In  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  after  leaning  thought- 
fully over  a  pig-pen  and  conferring  in  an  under  tone, 
the  arbitrators  announced  their  determination  of  the 
weighty  matter.  Their  conclusion  was  that  Mr,  Kert- 
land had  bought  the  cow  and  could  not  annul  the 
bargain ;  that  he  had  not  bought  the  calf,  and  conse- 
quently the  calf  was  not  his;  that  though  there  had 
been  a  grievous  mistake,  it  was  yet  attributable  to  his 
own  laches,  and  he  could  not  take  advantage  of  his 
own  mistake  to  the  damage  of  his  innocent  opponent. 
After  announcing  this  luminous  verdict,  they  had  the 
magnanimity  to  add,  that,  considering  all  the  facts 
named  and  the  additional  one  that  the  drover  had  suc- 
ceeded in  disposing  of  a  most  miserable  beast  at  an 
enormous  price,  he,  the  drover,  should  treat  all  hands. 
The  friendly  individual  who  had  suggested  the  arbitra- 
tion clai)ped  his  hands  in  approbation,  and  the  whole 
crowd  seemed  to  be  well  satisfied,  particularly  with 
the  concluding  requisition.  They  at  once  adjourned 
to  the  neighboring  house  of  entertainment. 

Mr.  Kertland  stood  for  a  few  moments  with  his  hands 


PHILIP  KEETLAND.  223 

behind  bis  back,  in  mute  perplexity.  But  light  soon 
appeared  to  break  upon  him.  He  joined  the  company, 
and  a  jolly  time  they  had  of  it.  He  did  not  reach 
home  till  midnight.  And  when  at  that  late  hour  he 
came  down  the  street  driving  his  cow  and  singing  at 
the  top  of  his  voice,  it  was  evident  that  he  felt  well 
pleased  with  the  adventures  of  the  day. 

For  some  time  he  tried  to  coax  a  little  milk  from  the 
aged  quadruped  that  had  thus  fallen  on  his  hands.  The 
first  day,  she  dispensed  about  a  pint ;  the  second,  half 
as  much ;  the  third,  half  as  much  as  that ;  the  fourth, 
half  an  egg-shell  full ;  and  that  was  the  last  drop  she 
ever  vouchsafed. 

Singular  as  it  may  seem,  this  experience  did  not  in 
the  least  shake  his  faith  in  the  Laightonian  maxim.  In- 
deed his  faith  was  strengthened,  though  his  heart  sank, 
when  he  discovered  that  the  cow  herself,  through  whom 
the  mischief  had  come,  could  not  look  him  straight  in 
the  eye.  Whenever  he  endeavofed  to  catch  a  direct 
glance  her  head  would  swing  some  other  way. 

Mr.  Kertland,  though  he  did  not  live  in  absolute 
penury,  was  by  no  means  a  rich  man.  He  was  too 
benevolent  to  be  rich;  besides  being,  like  all  men  of 
genius,  rather  improvident.  We  must  never  look  for 
good  financiers  among  men  of  genius  or  great  mind. 
The  amusement  said  to  have  been  caused  at  one  time 
on  the  exchange,  by  an  unsophisticated  holder  endea- 
voring to  raise  money  on  a  note  of  Daniel  Webster, 
endorsed  by  Rufus  Choate  afibrds  an  illusti'ation  of 
the  value  of  mind  in  the  haunts  of  mammon.  The  latch- 
string  of  Mr.  Kertland's  door  was  always  out  for  the 
grasp  of  the  needy  and  the  stranger.  And  he  was 
never  backward  in  lending  a  hand  to  a  neighbor,  even 
though  his  own  affairs  might  be  suffering  for  attention. 


224  NOTABLE    PEOPLE. 

Some  considered  liira  rather  too  ready  to  volunteer 
liis  services  in  other  people's  affairs ;  but  we  are  per- 
suaded that  this  conduct  arose  from  the  overflowing 
benevolence  of  his  heart.  And  however  objectionable 
this  propensity  to  interfere  in  the  concerns  of  others 
may  be  held  to  be,  is  it  not  attributable  to  the  con- 
sciousness possessed  by  most  of  us  that  we  are  better 
judges  of  the  affairs  of  others  than  they  themselves? 
And  that  being  the  case  with  Mr.  Kertland,  for  in- 
stance, we  see  how  naturally  he  must  have  conceived 
such  intermeddling  to  be  a  part  of  his  duty. 

The  great  Shoe  Trade  of  New  England,  now  one  of 
the  most  profitable  and  extensive  industrial  pursuits" 
ever  known  in  the  country,  had  a  humble  beginning. 
Mr.  Kertland's  shop  was  a  rude  adjunct  to  his  lowly 
habitation  which  cowered  in  a  little  hollow  on  the 
north  side  of  the  winding  road  that  was  the  original 
of  what  is  now  the  beautiful  Boston  street  of  Lynn. 
The  interior  was  some  twelve  feet  square,  and  innocent 
alike  of  plaster  or  wainscot.  It  had  two  diminutive 
sashes,  and  the  light  had  to  struggle  vigorously  to  get 
through  the  little  knotty  panes  that  from  appearance 
might  have  fulfilled  one  destiny  as  the  bottoms  of  Ger- 
man wine  bottles.  The  chimney  ran  up  on  the  outside, 
at  the  northeast  corner,  and  was  so  extremely  rough 
and  angular  that  the  poor  smoke  found  it  a  hard  road 
to  travel.  And  the  little  triangular  fire  place,  within, 
was  flanked  by  cutting-board  and  backless  seat.  A 
wooden  block  sat  in  front  for  the  convenience  of  cus- 
tomers and  visiters ;  and  many  and  many  a  time  did 
it  bear  the  weighty  forms  of  Zachariah  Hart,  Obadiah 
Turner,  Thomas  Newhall,  Oliver  Purchis,  Thomas  Dex- 
ter,  Thomas  Laighton,  and  the  godly  Whiting. 

For  a  part  of  the  time  Mr.  Kertland  had  little  or 


PHIUP    KERTLAND.  225 

nothing  to  do,  at  bis  trade.  He  would  then  attend  to 
small  farming,  fishing,  or  other  useful  labor.  At  other 
times  he  was  so  much  driven  by  work  that  he  would 
be  obliged  to  call  to  his  aid  a  couple  of  ingenious 
boys  who  knew  something  of  the  rudimental  mysteries 
of  shoemaking.  There  also  lived  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Saugus  river  a  cross-eyed  man,  who  had  some  know- 
ledge of  the  art;  and  he  too,  under  extraordinary  pres- 
sure, was  induced  occasionally  to  make  a  breach  in  his 
habitual  laziness  and  take  hold  for  a  few  hours. 

Mr.  Kertland  took  commendable  pride  in  his  calling 
and  really  did  much  to  advance  the  art.  He  has  been 
known  to  pay  a  ruinous  price  for  a  newly  fashioned 
shoe  from  abroad,  that  he  might  dissect  it  and  study 
the  hidden  mysteries  of  its  beauty.  And  he  once  made 
a  journey  to  Virginia  to  visit  a  celebrated  shoemaker 
who  was  for  a  short  time  tarrying  there.  By  such 
means  he  gained  a  high  reputation,  and  customers 
from  other  places  began  to  appear.  At  one  time  his 
,trade  Avas  so  extensive  that  he  had  to  visit  Boston  and 
Salem  at  least  once  a  month  with  a  large  bag  of  shoes 
on  his  shoulder. 

What  we  have  said  shows  the  small  beginning  of 
a  business  which  has  steadily  grown  through  two 
centuries  and  more  till  it  has  reached  such  gigantic 
proportions  that  by  an  honest  and  careful  estimate  not 
less  than  thirty  millions  of  pairs  of  boots  and  shoes 
were  manufactured  on  the  very  territory  that  consti- 
tuted the  old  Third  Plantation,  during  the  five  years 
ending  with  18G0  —  or  about  the  same  number  that 
would  be  required  to  furnish  every  man  woman  and 
child  now  in  the  United  States  Avith  one  pair.  And  is 
not  this  something  that  will  bear  a  little  boasting? 

About  the  worst  thing  that  we  have  learned  of  Mr, 
J*  15 


226  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

Kertland  is  that  he  was  not  always  courteous  to  cus- 
tomers ;  a  bad  failing  in  any  tradesman.  Like  many 
others,  he  was  apt,  when  a  reflection  was  cast  on  his 
merchandise,  by  a  purchaser,  to  side  at  once  with  the 
merchandise,  resenting  the  indignity  in  terms  more 
expressive  than  choice.  One  day  while  fitting  a  pair 
of  shoes  to  the  feet  of  a  lady,  she  strongly  insisted 
that  his  shoes  were  too  small ;  and  he  as  strongly  insist- 
ed that  her  feet  were  too  large.  The  wordy  quarrel 
waxed  warm,  to  the  edification  of  the  grinning  boys. 
Presently  the  application  of  his  oratory  was  shifted 
from  her  feet  to  her  head.  He  ridiculed  her  enormous 
head-dress,  eagle-feathers,  and  eel-skin  rosetts ;  angrily 
intimating,  among  other  indecorous  allusions,  that  ac- 
cording to  his  way  of  thinking,  Indian  moccasins  would 
better  comport  with  such  a  display,  than  shoes.^  Now 
it  happened  that  this  lady  was  the  wife  of  one  in  autho- 
rity. And  could  it  be  expected  that  his  slanderous 
tongue  should  so  wag  unpunished?  By  no  means.  The 
very  next  lecture  day  found  him  in  durance,  near  the. 
meeting  house,  for  two  hours,  with  the  unruly  member 
in  a  cleft  ^ick.  And  are  there  no  imprudent  young 
shop-keepers  at  this  day  who  might  be  benefited  by 
such  a  wholesome  experience? 

We  find  one  most  extraordinary  thing  recorded  re- 
garding Mr.  Kertland,  which  we  cannot  forbear  alluding 
to,  even  at  the  hazard  of  being  thought  inclined  to  talk 
of  wonders.  We  understand  it,  however,  to  relate  to 
his  early  life.  It  is  asserted  that  it  was  physically 
impossible  for  him,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  to 
appear  uncleanly  in  person,  his  flesh  possessing  a 
powerful  repulsion  to  all  filthiness.  This  was  noticed 
long  before  he  appeared  remarkable  for  any  thing  else. 
It  is  related  that  during  one  of  his  school  vacations, 


PHILIP   KERTLAND.  227 

when  much  of  his  valuable  time  was  devoted  to  the 
healthful  employment  of  constructing  mud  mills  and 
transporting  the  material  in  his  hat,  he  did  not  wash 
his  face  for  thirteen  days.  Yet  he  appeared  fresh  and 
clean  as  the  rose  "  which  Mary  to  Anna  conveyed." 
Sometimes,  for  the  gratification  of  curious  neighbors, 
his  parents  would  adorn  his  cheeks  and  arms  with 
charcoal  sketches,  and  very  soon,  without  being  touch- 
ed, they  would  all  disappear.  By  such  facts  we  confess 
to  having  been  greatly  puzzled.  But  they  may  per- 
haps be  accounted  for  by  supposing  that  there  was 
such  an  extremely  healthful  action  in.  his  system  that 
impurities  were  driven  off  with  a  speed  unknown  in 
common  cases.  No  doubt  there  is  a  natural  tendency 
in  the  human  body  to  repel  all  foreign  substances. 
Disease  must  weaken  the  repelling  power ;  and  the 
power  being  in  proportion  to  the  degree  of  health,  it 
follows  that  where  the  health  is  perfect  the  propulsion 
will  be  immediate,  and  where  there  is  no  health  dirt 
will  stick  eternall}'-  if  artificial  means  are  not-resorted 
to  for  its  removal.  This  doctrine  is  no  doubt  cor- 
rect, in  a  general  sense.  The  eminent  Boyle  speaks 
of  the  constant  passing  of  corpuscles  out  through  the 
skin.  And  now  if  all  these  things  be  so,  what  an  ex- 
traordinary degree  of  health  must  have  blessed  the 
early  days  of  Mr.  Kertland. 

But  our  imperfect  sketch  must  be  drawn  to  a  close. 
It  is  true  that  we  have  not  had  many  extraordinary 
things  to  relate  of  Mr.  Kertland.  Yet,  as  he  passed  a 
useful  and  on  the  whole  exemplary  life  he  has  a  better 
title  to  the  enduring  smiles  of  Fame  than  many  whose 
names  flaunt  liigh  upon  her  scroll.  Scarcely  an  indi- 
vidual goes  down  to  the  grave,  whose  biography,  if 
penned  by  an  honest  and  skillful  hand,  would  not  be 


228  NOTABLE   PEOPLE. 

found  deeply  interesting  and  instructive,  however  bum- 
ble the  life  may  have  been  or  barren  of  stirring  incident. 
We  are  all  interested  in  seeing  how  others  acquit  them- 
selves in  the  common  affairs  of  life,  for  with  the  same 
realities  Ave  ourselves  are  struggling. 

It  has  not  been  an  object  in  these  sketches,  always 
to  choose  the  most  conspicuous  characters  to  dwell 
upon,  for  it  is  very  far  from  being  true  that  the  most 
conspicuous  are  always  the  most  meritorious.  And, 
besides,  there  are  enough  others  to  laud  and  magnify 
the  already  renowned.  Circumstances  often  conspire, 
in  a  most  unaccountable  manner,  to  make  one  man 
famous,  while  his  neighbor,  infinitely  better  endowed, 
passes  his  life  in  obscurity.  We  feel  justified  in  laud- 
ing such  of  the  early  settlers  as  we  have  been  able  to 
speak  of.  They  were  a  hardy  and  self-sacrificing  race  ; 
pious,  industrious  and  prudent ;  a  people  inspired  by 
holier  motives  than  the  greed  of  gain.  What,  indeed, 
would  have  been  the  condition  of  New  England,  at  the 
present  day,  had  the  early  planters  possessed  no  more 
ennobling  traits  than  do  most  of  this  mammon  seeking 
and  mammon  worshipping  generation  ?  And  we  close 
with  the  pertinent  question  — 

What  would  the  good  old  Third  Plantation  have 
come  to  without  such  jewels  as  Zachaeiah  Hart, 
Obadiah  Turner,  Thomas  Newhall,  Oliver  Purchis, 
Thomas  Dexter  and  Philip  Kertland? 


PA.RT   II. 


NOTABLE   THINGS 


OP 


OLDEN     TIME. 


"  In  the  gray  morn  and  purple  eve, 

Spirit  of  Thought! 
0  lead  me  to  those  dim  old  rustic  shrines 
My  fathers  loved.     Recall  their  lusty  forms, 
And  let  me  ponder  on  their  worthy  acts; 
Teach  me  to  emulate  their  dignity, 
And  prosecute  life's  nobler  aims ! " 


INTRODUCTORY   REMARKS. 

In  a  volume  of  such  design  as  the  one  now  in  the 
hand  of  the  reader,  it  would  be  a  marked  omission 
not  to  treat,  to  some  extent,  of  Things  as  Avell  as  Per- 
sons. Yet,  in  all  historical  illustrations,  the  images  of 
the  two  departments  so  mingle  together  that  it  is  to 
a  great  degree  impossible  to  present  them  in  any  very 
distinguishing  light.  The  scenes  and  actors  must  con- 
stantly appear  together.  And  perhaps  the  most  that 
can  be  done  is  to  endeavor,  when  treating  professedly 
of  Persons,  to  place  them  in  the  strongest  light,  and 
when  treating  of  Things,  to  pursue  a  similar  course. 

(229) 


230  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

In  the  present  case,  certainly,  the  reader  will  recognise 
the  propriety  of  the  divisions  Ave  speak  of,  whatever 
may  be  his  opinion  of  the  manner  in  which  we  acquit 
ourselves. 

In  our  biographical  sketch  of  Obadiah  Turner,  we 
gave  copious  extracts  from  his  interesting  journal. 
Mention  is  made  by  him  of  numerous  localities  and 
institutions  that  in  after  years  became  famous ;  and 
not  a  few  occurrences  are  treated  of,  the  results  of 
which  were  subsequently  reckoned  of  leading  impor- 
tance. And  it  is  not  difficult  to  trace  some  of  our 
cherished  customs  and  institutions  to  the  small  bes-in- 
nings  of  that  period.  No  history  can  be  more  profit- 
able than  that  which,  while  it  inculcates  pure  morality, 
impresses  useful  lessons  in  the  philosophy  of  life.  Our 
brief  details,  we  trust,  will  secure  the  reader's  atten- 
tion ;  and  the  few  reflections  intermingled  may  not 
prove  altogether  destitute  of  value. 

We  love  to  go  back  to  the  quaint  days  of  our  fathers  ; 
to  the  days  of  blue  leggins  and  leather  small-clothes ; 
of  huge  bonnets  that  hid  the  face  of  innocence  and 
beauty  from  every  rude  gaze ;  of  gowns  of  tow  cloth 
which  the  wearer's  own  hand  had  woven,  and  which 
were  worn  with  no  expansion  of  skirt  beyond  what 
was  necessary  for  grace  and  ease  of  step.  We  love  to 
think  of  their  intrepidity  in  meeting  perils  and  their 
uncomplaining  submission  to  sore  privation.  No  other 
people  ever  on  earth  were  like  them ;  so  brave  in  the 
battle  of  life ;  so  devoted  and  trusting  in  spirit.  And 
is  it  not  pleasant  and  profitable  to  mark  the  growth  of 
those  good  things  which  they  originated  and  by  their 
virtuous  heroism  guarded  and  nurtured,  and  which 
have  come  down  to  bless  our  own  treneration? 


# 


^ 


'>^ 


■1  '^^"-^  -  "^i_  -l^^^^&^J^M^^I^^ 
THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND  :    A.  D.    1 679. 
Page  7S  ;  also  pp.  231  to  282. 


THE 
OLD    BURYIlSra  aROUND. 

*'  Though  storms  and  -winds  rule  high  in  air. 

And  men's  rough  passions  rave, 
Calm  rest  the  weary  sleepers  here, 

Safe  in  the  dreamless  grave  !" 

For  a  period  quite  beyond  the  memory  of  all  living, 
the  quaint  name  that  we  have  placed  above,  has  dis- 
tinguished a  consecrated  spot  in  tlie  western  part  of 
Lynn  —  a  spot  which  by  its  beautiful  location,  its 
numerous  trees  and  its  neat  monuments,  never  fails  to 
attract  the  attention  of  travelers.  In  our  extracts 
from  the  journaj  of  Mr.  Turner,  it  will  be  observed 
that  under  date*  of  1653,  he  speaks  of  "  y«  buryal 
place."  And  it  seems  quite  certain  that  he  can  refer 
to  no  other  than  this.  The  history  of  this  interesting 
spot  so  runs  back  into  the  obscurities  of  past  time  that 
the  period  when  it  was  first  devoted  to  its  sacred  pur- 
poses does  not  certainly  appear.  For  generation  after 
generation  it  has  remained  a  revered  spot.  And  could 
the  tongues  that  lie  here  in  the  cold  silence  of  death 
be  reanimated,  what  a  history  they  might  disclose. 

In  the  modern  cemetery  one  sees  costly  monuments 
assigning  to  the  dead  virtues  above  the  power  of 
mortal  attainment ; —  fond  conceits  of  mourning  love. 
And  the  rich  tablet,  to  the  humble  mind,  too  often 
seems  but  ostentatious  evidence  of  human  pride.  To 
the  gray  old  stones  that  rise  beside  the  resting  places 

(231) 


232  KOTABLE   THINGS. 

of  New  England's  early  dead  we  turn.  Upon  their 
mossy  fronts,  in  few  and  simple  words  are  touching 
lessons  to  the  heart,  and  worthy  histories. 

To  the  contemplative  mind  there  is  a  serious  and 
enduring  satisfaction  in  retiring  from  the  scenes  of 
busy  life  to  spend  a  tranquil  hour  in  the  community 
of  those  who  are  no  longer  disturbed  by  the  murmur- 
ing of  the  waves  of  care  nor  by  the.  raging  of  the 
storms  of  passion  on  the  shore  of  time.  To  such  a 
mind  the  ancient  churchyard  is  most  hallowed  ground. 
Here,  retired  from  the  turmoil  and  vexations  of  a 
heartless  world,  and  from  the  gaze  of  earth's  unfeeling 
devotees,  he  reads  upon  the  green  sward  and  lettered 
stone  a  history  of  bygone  years.  He  looks  upon  the 
grave  of  honorable  manhood  and  blesses  him  who  was 
a  blessing  to  his  kind ;  upon  the  grave  of  childhood, 
and  with  grateful  aspirations  that  the  tender  plant  has 
been  removed  to  bloom  in  brighter  spheres  than  earth 
affords,  mingles  an  emotion  of  sorrow*for  the  mourning 
hearts  from  whom  its  light  and  love  have  been  with- 
drawn. 

Men  would  not  be  harmed  by  retiring  more  often  to 
such  a  place,  to  muse  upon  their  course  and  destiny. 
Were  they  accustomed  so  to  do,  many  of  the  rough 
passages  of  life  would  be  made  more  smooth,  for  they 
would  be  led  to  perceive  the  hollowness  of  all  earth's 
promises,  hopes  and  attainments,  and  learn  to  lean 
with  more  confiding  faith  on  those  promises  which 
concern  a  nobler  life. 

Some  men  have  such  enlarged  and  comprehensive 
minds,  that  they  look  forward,  even  beyond  the  bounds 
of  time,  to  estimate  the  effects  of  their  present  con- 
duct. But  most  men  are  so  circumscribed  in  their 
contemplations  that  a  few  years  entirely  close  up  the 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  233 

view.  Yet  a  hundred  years  will  roll  away  just  as 
certainly  as  five.  And  18G5  is  no  more  sure  to  come 
than  1965.     Time  is  not  the  substance  of  things. 

Let  the  groveler  in  the  path  to  wealth  come  hither 
at  the  solemn  hour  when  "  fades  the  glimmering  land- 
scape on  the  sight,"  and  consider  the  purpose  and  end 
of  his  care  and  toil.  How  deluded,  to  turn  from  the 
true  and  only  road  to  happiness,  the  training  of  the 
unearthly  powers  of  mind,  to  chase  the  ignis  fatuus 
that  dances  along  the  quagmires  by  the  wayside.  The 
ability  to  obtain  happiness  from  the  mere  possession 
of  wealth  .is  not  an  attribute  of  the  human  soul.  Why 
then  bend  its  powers  to  such  ignoble  purposes?  Why 
spend  a  life  in  gathering  that  which  cannot  make  more 
happy  here,  which  can  afford  no  barrier  to  the  shaft 
of  death,  nor  purchase  entrance  to  more  joyous  realms? 
That  sanctified  petition,  "  Give  me  neither  poverty  nor 
riches,"  contains  a  world  of  wisdom,  and  of  instruction 
for  the  seeker  after  happiness.  Without  heed  to  its 
spirit  all  our  efforts  are  vain.  And  in  an  enlarged 
view,  what  community  can  be  more  happy  than  that  in 
which  all  have  enough  and  none  too  much.  If  such  a 
community  exists  they  are  in  a  position  to  enjoy  the 
greatest  amount  of  temporal  felicity  attainable  by 
mankind.  Men  who  ceaselessly  toil  for  wealth  spend 
their  energies  for  means  instead  of  an  end ;  that  is, 
instead  of  enjoying  life  as  it  passes,  making  use  of 
their  gains  as  means  for  enjoyment,  they  harrass  them- 
selves by  unceasing  endeavor  to  continue  the  accumu- 
lation of  moans,  and  finally  end  a  miserable  life  with- 
out ever  applying  them  to  an  end.  By  such  a  course 
riches  have  no  more  power  to  impart  happiness  than 
wind  blown  into  the  nostrils  of  a  statue  has  power  to 
impart  life. 


234  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

Let  the  aspirant  for  fame  and  worldly  honor  come 
hither,  and  contemplate  the  end  of  all  his  daily  toils 
and  nightly  vigils.  What  though  wondering  millions 
speak  his  praise  and  on  his  fevered  brow  the  laurel 
wreath  be  twined.  Remember  that  the  trump  of  fame 
sounds  not  beyond  the  borne  of  time,  and  that  the 
wings  of  mortal  praise  can  never  waft  one  to  a  happier 
sphere. 

And  hither  let  us  all  come ;  high  and  low ;  rich  and 
poor;  learned  and  ignorant.  Let  us  come  and  consider 
our  ways,  remembering  that  our  earthly  pilgrimage  is 
soon  to  close;  and  remembering  too  that  as  we  lie 
down,  so  must  we  rise  again.  And  may  we  so  order 
our  ways,  that,  lying  down  as  after  a  long  day  of  wea- 
riness and  labor,  we  may  rise  as  from  a  refreshing 
sleep,  disciplined  and  inspired  for  a  loftier  race. 

When  one  seriously  reflects  on  death,  it  would  seem 
as  if  he  could  not  reasonably  entertain  any  fear  of  it, 
but  must  regard  it  as  a  mere  transition  from  one  state 
of  existence  to  another ;  a  passage  which  we  all  must 
make.  And  is  not  he  irrational  as  well  as  deficient  in 
moral  courage  and  christian  faith,  Avho  shrinks  from 
meeting,  with  bold  front,  what  he  cannot  avoid?  But  is 
it  the  thought  of  an  hereafter  that  makes  men  dread 
death?  What  dutiful  child  of  a  loving  Father,  can 
fear  a  more  pitiable  condition  hereafter  than  is  com- 
monly experienced  here  ?  And  who  even  is  prepared 
to  say  that  the  quietude  of  annihilation  is  not  to  be 
preferred  to  the  troubles  and  perplexities  that  most 
experience  in  this  life  ? 

In  this  venerable  gathering  place  of  the  dead  are 
congregated  the  worthies  who  sat  in  council  over  the 
infant  interests    of  the    Plantation;   the  fathers  who 


THE   OLD    BURYING    GROUND.  235 

reared  the  first  dwellings  in  the  shades  of  the  forest; 
the  mothers  who  watched  over  the  first  born;  the 
young  men  and  maidens  who,  of  all  the  pale  race,  first 
sought  these  romantic  glens  and  vales,  wherein  alone  to 
plight  their  vows.  And  here  are  those  who  have  shone 
as  bright  stars  in  the  councils  of  the  nation;  those 
wdio  have  broken  the  bread  of  life  for  the  hungry  pen- 
itent; as  well  as  countless  hosts  of  humbler  souls  who 
loved  to  tread  these  hills  and  shores.  And  here,  too, 
have  the  sons  and  daughters  of  far-off  lands  lain  down 
their  weary  heads  with  the  tears  of  strangers  alone  to 
fall  upon  their  graves. 

What  are  our  feelings  as  we  pause  among  the  graves 
of  the  earliest  tenants  of  this  consecrated  spot?  A 
thousand  images,  these  reveling  in  living  beauty,  and 
those  dimly  discovered  by  the  torch  of  history  or 
transiently  delineated  by  the  flickering  glow  of  tradi- 
tion, are  arrayed  before  us. 

How  changed  are  all  things  around  since  their  foot- 
steps brushed  the  dews  of  these  fields  and  impressed 
the  sands  of  these  shores.  A  fair  and  busy  city  has 
arisen  from  the  forest  shades.  The  holy  psean  of  the 
christian  church  now  sounds  where  only  the  wild  sav- 
age chant  was  heard.  These  Avaters,  which  to  their 
eyes  presented  an  unbroken  field  of  blue,  are  now 
enlivened  by  the  broad  white  wings  that  waft  rich 
argosys.  The  thunders  of  war  have  echoed  over 
them  and  the  earthquake  has  rocked  them  in  their 
dreamless  sleep.  One  by  one  their  kindred  and  neigh- 
bors were  gathered  around  them,  and  long  have  the 
winds  of  heaven  moaned  a  dirge  over  their  whole 
generation.  More  than  two  hundred  times  has  the 
snowy  mantle  of  winter  been  spread  and  the  sweet  gar- 
niture of  spring  been  renewed  upon  their  lowly  beds. 


236  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

But  all  things  are  not  thus  changed.  We  look  upon 
the  heavens  and  they  are  the  same.  Yon  evening  star 
shines  with  the  same  mild  lustre  to  guide  us  in  our 
musing  walk,  that  it  did  to  light  them  along  the  forest 
path.  The  deep  music  of  the  ocean  harp  rolls  along 
these  embattled  shores  in  the  same  mighty  strains  for 
our  generation  that  it  did  for  theirs,  and  the  rugged 
hills  and  cliffs  echo  it  back  as  faithfully.  And,  above 
all  these,  the  same  God  who  led  them  through  the  perils 
of  their  lone  heritage,  conducts  our  footsteps  in  the  less 
trying  though  more  dangerous  paths  of  prosperity  and 
among  the  hazardous  refinements  of  more  artificial 
life. 

It  is  uncertain,  as  before  intimated,  at  what  precise 
period  these  few  acres  were  first  occupied  as  a  burial 
place.  But  it  must  have  been  in  the  early  times  of 
the  Plantation.  For  many  years,  however,  the  space 
remained  unenclosed,  and  the  graves  were  dug  here 
and  there  among  the  trees.  Finally  a  rude  stone  wall 
was  erected  to  prevent  the  intrusion  of  straying  beasts. 
And  that  in  good  time  gave  place  to  a  more  comely 
erection. 

A  century  ago  the  Ground  was  almost  bare  of  trees. 
The  remnants  of  the  old  forest  had  vanished  one  by 
one  hke  vexed  ghosts,  and  little  or  nothing  had  been 
done  towards  supplying  their  places.  The  numerous 
cherry  trees  that  now  adorn  the  sacred  precincts,  have 
appeared  within  some  forty  years.  And  singular  as  it 
may  seem  they  sprang  from  seeds  transported  hither 
by  the  birds ;  as  if  those  winged  watchers  would  have 
bowers  in  which  to  carol  over  the  dead,  or  would 
gently  hint  to  men  their  duty. 

The  oldest  grave-stone  now  standing  bears  the  name 
of  ''  lohn  Clifford,"  and  the  date  1G98.     All  the  earlier 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND. 


monuments  and  tablets  have  long  since  disappeared; 
though  it  is  not  probable  that  many  of  enduring  mate- 
rial existed.  Simple  erections  of  wood  no  doubt  for 
many  years  marked  the  resting  places  of  loved  ones ; 
but  these  decayed  and  vanished.  Unsculptured  stones 
were  reared  by  other  graves,  and  some  simple  mounds 
of  *earth;  and  these  were  removed  as  more  ambitious 
monuments  appeared. 

This  particular  spot  was  devoted  to  the  purposes  of 
burial  more  perhaps  from  the  convenience  of  its  loca 
tion  than  any  other  consideration.  At  that  periou 
little  was  thought  of  choosing  a  resting  place  for  the 
dead  where  the  beauties  of  nature  might  attract  the 
thoughtful,  or  where  the  mourner's  heart  might  find 
relief  in  contemplating  the  departed  as  resting  in  a 
pleasant  place.  Yet,  whatever  may  have  been  the  pur- 
pose in  the  selection,  the  spot  chosen  was  in  truth  a 
lovely  one.  A  small  pond  lay  upon  the  south  and  west, 
and  many  hale  old  forest  trees  looked  down  admiringly 
upon  their  gigantic  forms  mirrored  in  the  placid  water. 
The  white  lilies  unfolded  their  perfumed  leaves  and 
gay  birds  sailed  quietly  about.  The  oak,  pine,  and 
cedar  reared  their  stately  forms,  unconscious  that  the 
new  race  who  had  come  to  occupy  the  land  would 
soon  lay  them  low  with  as  unpitying  strokes  as  those 
dealt  to  their  own  kind  found  upon  the  soil  And 
sweetly  the  evening  dew  distilled  through  fragrant 
branches  and  profusely  blooming  shrubbery,  upon  the 
early  graves. 

True  it  is  that  even  down  to  our  day,  this  sacred 
spot  has  never  been  in  a  condition  to  boast  of  much 
artificial  embellishment.  But  it  may  long  have  boasted 
of  what  is  far  better.  Beneath  these  unadorned  stones 
lies  as  noble  dust  as  that  beneath  the  Roman  marble. 


238  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

And  when  the  earth  and  sea  give  up  their  dead,  there 
will  arise  from  these  graves,  those  with  whom  warriors 
and  kings,  statesmen  and  pliilosophers,  men  whose 
names  stand  high  on  the  historic  page,  would  gladly 
change  conditions, 

« 

The  power  of  intellectual  association  has  always 
been  recognised,  however  deeply  hidden  its  channels 
of  operation.  The  slightest  emotion  within,  or  occur- 
rence without,  will  sometimes  reopen  vast  provinces 
of  thought,  recalling  every  feature  of  the  mental  land- 
scape in  pristine  freshness  and  beauty.  The  perfume 
of  a  particular  flower  or  a  certain  strain  of  music  may 
possess  this  talismanic  power.  Some  tone  in  a  stran- 
ger's voice  may  call  up  old  loves ;  some  landscape 
feature,  long  forgotten  scenes. 

There  are  some  who  possess  such  original  and  ab- 
stract natures  that  their  outward  acts  receive  tone  and 
coloring  essentially,  though  not  entirely,  of  themselves. 
But  with  the  great  mass  of  mankind  the  conceptions 
are  shaped  by  the  outward  aspect  of  nature,  the  influ- 
ence of  other  minds,  and  the  shifting  scenes  of  life. 

Sometimes  there  arise  in  the  common  mind,  dreamily 
mingling  with  the  present,  long  departed  phantoms, 
diverse  in  their  nature  and  intensity.  And  thence 
flow  those  checkered,  indefinite  notions  that  so  fre- 
quently dance  about  in  fantastic  and  incomprehensible 
shapes.  But  at  other  times,  and  in  more  cultivated 
minds,  the  departed  return  in  order  and  fidelit}^,  illus- 
trating the  present  and  imparting  strength  for  the 
future. 

And  how  few  possess  a  full  realization  of  the  dignity 
of  their  higher  nature,  of  the  powers  of  mind.  But 
more  especially  how  few  realize  the  enduring  effects. 


THE  OLD  BUETING  GROUND.  239 

the  remote  sequences,  of  their  acts  and  even  thoughts. 
Future  ages  may  be  moved  by  what  the  most  humble 
soul  may  execute  or  conceive.  A  thought,  springing 
up  today,  may  be  acted  upon,  and  go  forth,  inspiring 
and  setting  in  motion  other  minds,  expanding  and 
accumulating  power,  till,  in  future  time,  it  may  turn 
the  world  upside  down.  And  that  thought  may  have 
been  born  of  some  rude  wayfarer.  And  may  it  not  be 
that  among  those  who  lie  here,  awaiting  the  resurrec- 
tion, there  are  those  whose  conceptions  have  brought 
about  some  of  the  great  things  which  are  the  boast  of 
this  generation? 

When  one  quits  the  world,  how  little  can  be  known 
of  the  good  or  evil  he  has  done.  The  great  account 
cannot  be  closed  up  till  time  shall  cease.  And  can  it 
even  then?  Are  not  the  consequences  of  his  acts 
done  here,  felt  in  other  souls  through  all  eternity  ? 

In  view  of  these  things,  what  dignity  belongs  to 
every  man  and  what  responsibility  rests  upon  him. 
How  ought  he  to  live  ?  The  faithful  soul  may  take 
fresh  courage  for  his  race ;  for,  however  humble  here, 
his  name  may  yet  stand  high  upon  the  records  of  a 
better  land.  By  tender  persuasions  he  may  have 
drawn,  by  holy  examples  lighted,  other  souls  in  the 
path  of  true  life.     And  can  he  fail  of  reward  ? 

Just  where  that  little  freshly  blooming  cherry  grows, 
were  laid  the  remains  of  Deborah  Armitage.  In  1679 
she  was,  and  for  many  years  had  been,  traveling  about 
Lynn  and  the  neighboring  towns,  gaining  an  honest 
pittance  by  selling  herbs  and  a  few  simple  medicinal 
preparations.  She  was  decrepit,  and  much  indebted  to 
her  well  worn  staff,  though  not  exactly  the  subject  of 
any   great   suffering.      Her  apparel   was    comibrtablo 


240  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

though  by  no  means  exempt  from  evidences  of  long 
service.  The  bonnet  of  rusty  black,  and  the  dingy 
brown  shawl,  which  the  kind  Mrs.  Whiting  had  given 
her  half  a  score  of  years  before,  she  continued  to  wear 
in  grateful  remembrance  of  the  donor.  And  the  cloak 
of  coarse  woolen  cloth  reaching  to  her  ankles,  with  a 
girdle  of  leather  and  an  immense  hood,  which  she  don- 
ned when  winter's  blasts  were  howling,  was  the  gift  of 
the  young  sisters  of  the  parish. 

In  the  woods,  Aunt  Deborah  gathered  her  sassafras, 
gold-thread  and  checkerberry.  In  her  little  garden 
she  raised  her  sage,  rue  and  wormwood.  By  the  road- 
side she  found  her  catnip  and  yellow  dock.  And  the 
meadows  supplied  her  sweet  flag  root  and  rosemary. 
The  few  bottles  of  eye-water  that  she  took  in  her  bas- 
ket were  distilled  by  her  own  fireside.  And  the  few 
boxes  of  salve  for  wounds  and  bruises  were  made  by 
her  own  hands. 

From  Monday  to  Saturday,  in  sunshine  and  storm, 
she  traveled  hither  and  thither,  diligent  in  her  humble 
calling.  Every  one  knew  her  as  an  honest,  pious  and 
simple  hearted  dame,  with  tears  always  ready  to  flow 
at  a  tale  of  suffering,  and  hands  ever  ready  to  do  their 
utmost  in  charity.  To  many  a  sick  bed  did  she  find 
her  way  with  words  of  christian  comfort  which  to  the 
trusting  soul  did  more  good  than  her  herbs  and  con- 
coctions. She  was  never  turned  from  a  door,  but 
often  bidden  to  tarry  for  a  meal  or  lodging ;  for  her 
presence  was  deemed  a  good  omen.  Yet  it  turned 
out  that  she  sometimes  made  her  bed  in  a  barn  and 
supped  upon  a  crust,  for  she  had  a  delicate  fear  of 
intruding  on  the  hospitality  of  others. 

Little  children  were  not  afraid  to  lean  upon  Aunt 
Deborah's  knee  or  have  her  smooth  their  flaxen  heads. 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  241 

And  with  delight  would  they  gather  around  her,  seated 
on  their  little  crickets,  to  hear  her  tell  how  good  boys 
and  girld  were  rewarded  and  wicked  ones  punished. 

The  home  of  Aunt  Deborah  was  a  small  rustic  cot 
at  the  edge  of  the  woods,  with  a  brave  little  brook 
working  its  weedy  way  in  front  and  an  unassuming 
garden  patch  in  the  rear.  Some  messes  of  early  veg- 
etables and  a  store  of  herbs  for  winter  sales  were  her 
reward  for  the  few  hours  of  toil  that  she  could  devote 
to  her  modest  husbandry.  Along  the  wall  the  flaunt- 
ing leaves  of  the  horseradish  and  burdock  spread ; 
golden  saffron  heads  peered  among  fantastic  weeds ; 
and  precious  mint  struggled  bravely  among  the  knotty 
grass. 

From  the  noon  of  Saturday  to  the  dawn  of  Monday 
Aunt  Deborah  was  never  absent  from  home,  save  to 
visit  those  who  were  in  need,  sickness  or  other  adver- 
sity, or  to  attend  the  services  of  the  sanctuary.  And 
she  loved  to  see  the  villagers  who  in  their  evening 
walks  so  often  called.  The  pious  had  their  own  zeal 
inflamed  by  her  warmth,  and  the  careless  had  their 
hearts  awakened  by  her  gentle  warnings.  Her  tattered 
and  blurred  Bible  was  a  fountain  head  of  comfort. 
And  it  was  delightful  to  see  her  earnest  struggles  to 
light  in  other  hearts  such  holy  fires  as  burned  in  hers. 
And,  we  doubt  not,  eternity  will  testify  that  she,  un- 
learned and  simple,  opened  many  a  sleeping  eye,  roused 
many  a  sluggish  soul. 

The  good  minister  loved  to  linger  beneath  her  roof, 
not  because  a  tankard  of  her  best  herb  brewing  awaited 
his  thirsty  lips,  nor  because  when  he  remained  to  sup, 
the  whitest  cloth  that  tow  could  make  was  spread 
upon  the  little  round  table  and  the  choice  cup  with  its 
edge  of  blue  and  the  silver  spoon  which  had  come  to 
K  16 


242  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

her  as  a  precious  heirloom,  were  brought  forth,  but 
because  he  might  reanimate  his  own  faith  by  the  hea- 
venly glow  of  hers,  and  from  her  meek  and  unaffected 
grace  learn  to  guide  his  own  steps.  Alone,  by  night 
and  by  day,  she  passed  many  hours.  But  no  fears 
disturbed  her  trustful  spirit.  Upon  her  solitary  bed 
she  lay  in  the  still  hours  of  night,  fearing  no  harm, 
but  gratefully  contemplating  the  mercies  and  promises 
of  her  great  Protector. 

Aunt  Deborah,  or  Aunt  Armitage,  as  she  was  indis- 
criminately called,  must  have  been  quite  aged  at  the 
time  we  mentioned,  for  it  was  more  than  thirty  years 
that  she  had  continued  her  lowly  traffick,  selling  her 
herbs  and  scattering  the  precious  seeds  of  christian 
truth  and  love.  Many  of  the  sick  were  relieved  by  her, 
and  many  of  the  depraved  renewed,  in  that  long  time. 

The  winter  of  1680  was  one  of  great  severity.  The 
cold  set  in  early,  and  before  Christmas,  the  streams 
and  ponds  were  frozen  up,  not  again  to  be  released  till 
the  warm  fingers  of  spring  touched  them.  A  great 
body  of  snow  fell,  and  the  ground  was  not  seen  for 
three  months.  There  never  had  been  a  better  time 
for  getting  wood  from  within  and  beyond  the  swamps; 
a  fact  made  apparent  by  the  enormous  piles  in  many 
door  yards. 

But  our  persevering  old  friend  was  not  often  pre- 
vented from  pursuing  her  accustomed  rounds.  Not 
unfrequently  night  overtook  her  trudging  along  the 
crisp  and  crackling  path  from  Salem  Village  or  Mai- 
den, the  cutting  wind  ruthlessly  dashing  aside  her 
great  hood,  that  it  might  bestow  a  rough  kiss  upon 
her  wrinkled  brow.  Her  long  cloak  stood  her  in  good 
stead,  as  did  a  pair  of  thick  gray  leggins,  the  gift  of 
Dame   PurchiS;  and   a   pair    of  enormous   moccasins, 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  243 

manufactured  of  the  uncurried  skin  of  a  wild  animal, 
and  presented  by  an  old  Indian  woman  whom  she  had 
befriended. 

About  the  middle  of  January,  one  of  the  most  furi- 
ous storms  of  the  whole  winter  occurred.  And  it 
came  on  so  suddenly  that  it  overtook  many  entirely 
unawares.  Several  lives  were  lost,  numbers  of  cattle 
and  sheep  were  buried,  and  not  a  few  of  the  smaller 
habitations  were  entirely  overwhelmed.  For  several 
days,  the  roads  in  many  places  remained  impassable. 
Even  the  great  town  sled,  with  eight  yoke  of  cattle 
and  a  score  of  men  with  shovels,  could  not  work 
through.  Some  of  the  drifts  were  so  enormous,  that 
the  tree-tops  rose  but  little  above  them,  giving  the 
appearance  of  a  succession  of  milk-white  hills  stud- 
ded with  straggling  shrubbery.  People  walked  from 
their  chamber  windows,  on  snow-shoes.  And  the  prin- 
cipal store  in  the  village  was  only  reached  by  an  arch- 
way dug  from  without. 

Aunt  Deborah's  cottage  was  almost  entirely  buried. 
But  the  good  neighbors  assembled  with  their  shovels, 
as  soon  as  they  could,  and  it  was  presently  exhumed. 
But  on  entering,  no  one  was  found.  At  this,  however, 
they  Avere  not  much  surprised,  she  was  so  often  away. 
They  had  no  doubt  that  she  was  in  comfortable  quarters 
and  would  make  her  appearance  again  as  soon  as  the 
traveling  would  permit.  But  a  week  passed  and  no 
one  had  seen  her,  though  by  that  time  the  ways  had 
become  pretty  well  trodden.  At  the  end  of  another 
week  considerable  anxiety  began  to  be  felt  and  inqui- 
ries were  made  in  all  directions.  Nothing  satisfactory, 
however,  could  be  learned,  though  various  reports  were 
abroad,  of  her  having  been  seen  here  and  there,  on 
this  road  and  that. 


244  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

The  great  storm  commenced  a  little  before  dark^ 
Avitli  a  northeasterly  wind,  which,  however,  was  not 
very  violent  for  some  hours.  And  it  was  satisfactorily 
ascertained  that  Aunt  Deborah  left  the  house  of  Mr. 
Danforth,  in  Maiden,  where  she  had  taken  an  early 
Slipper,  a  little  before  it  began.  She  was  urged  to 
remain,  but  chose  rather  to  move  along  towards  home, 
saying  that  it  would  not  be  dark  as  there  was  a  large 
moon,  and  the  storm  would  not  probably  be  very  vio- 
lent before  the  turning  of  the  tide,  which  would 
be  well  towards  midnight.  At  any  rate,  she  thought 
she  could  safely  calculate  on  reaching  the  house  of 
Mr.  Hawkes,  which  was  a  couple  of  miles  west  of 
Lynn  village,  before  there  was  danger  to  be  appre- 
liended. 

But  things  did  not  turn  out  according  to  her  calcu- 
lation. A  hard,  cutting  snow  began  to  fall  profusely 
soon  after  she  left  the  house  of  her  kind  entertainers, 
and  being  obliged  to  almost  directly  face  the  wind, 
which  continued  to  increase  in  force,  it  could  not  have 
been  long  before  she  found  her  progress  very  much 
impeded  and  very  uncomfortable.  The  cold  being 
intense,  she  could  hardly  have  escaped  very  soon 
becoming  benumbed. 

However,  be  these  things  as  they  may,  there  was 
found  no  trace  of  Aunt  Armitage  after  she  had  reached 
the  turn  in  the  road  which  shut  her  from  the  view  of 
Mr.  Danforth's  window.  Much  anxiety  was  felt,  and 
many  a  wearisome  search  was  made.  But  no  trace  of 
her  could  be  found. 

And  it  was  not  till  the  warm  breath  of  April  melted 
down  the  great  drift  that  sloped  from  a  cliff  a  little  off 
the  roa,d,  in  Mr.  Turner's  pasture,  that  Aunt  Deborah 
was  found.     There  she  sat,  curled  up  against  the  rock, 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  245 

as  if  she  had  sought  shelter,  and  being  overcome  by 
cold  and  fatigue,  had  slept.  And  there,  in  that  inhos- 
pitable resting  place,  her  noble  spirit  fled,  leaving  its 
worn-out  tenement  wrapped  in  a  mighty  winding-sheet 
of  snow.  Her  transition  from  this  life  to  a  better,  so 
far  as  regards  physical  pains,  may  have  been  easy ; 
though  to  die  in  such  a  lonely  spot,  and  without  one 
loved  soul  to  receive  a  parting  word  or  watch  the 
closing  eye,  is  always  hard.  Yet  her  willing  spirit 
was  ever  ready  for  its  conflict  with  the  last  enemy; 
and  the  dark  valley  had  no  terrors  for  her. 

Just  there,  was  she  laid. 

And  think  you  not  that  her  humble  walk  led  to  joys 
which  many  of  the  proud  worldlings  who  lie  around, 
realised,  as  the  gates  of  eternity  opened,  were  more 
worthy  of  being  striven  for  than  all  that  the  wealth  of 
the  whole  world  could  purchase  ? 

There  are  those  who,  selfish,  untrusting,  and  mistak- 
ing their  own  characters,  may,  with  some  show  of  con- 
sistency, exclaim,  as  they  quit  the  unsatisfj'ing  scenes 
of  life,  in  the  words  of  Brutus,  "  0  Virtue,  I  have 
worshipped  thee  as  a  substantial  good,  but  find  that 
thou. art  an  empty  name."  But  no  such  sorrowful 
words  could  have  escaped  the  lips  of  her  of  whom  we 
speak ;  for  though  she  had  worshipped  virtue  all  her 
life  without  receiving  much  temporal  reward,  yet,  look- 
ing not  for  the  substantial  good  here,  she  did  not  find 
it  an  empty  name.  Though  poor,  yet  was  she  rich, 
rich  in  the  godly  gift  of  christian  faith  and  patience. 
There  is  a  counterfeit  patience,  that  proceeds  from 
unconcern  or  indolence.  But  hers  was  that  true  pa- 
tience proceeding  from  unwavering  reliance  on  the 
great  promise  that  all  will  be  well  witli  such  as  perse- 
vere to  the  end  ;  a  holy  patience,  that  sustains  under 


246  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

all  suffering.     And  hers  was  that  glorious  faith  that 
foreshadows  a  happy  issue  out  of  all  afflictions. 

Freely  did  this  poor  old  woman  give  of  her  hard 
earned  pittance,  and  never  distrust  that  she  was  lend- 
ing to  One  who  would  abundantly  repay.  How  often 
sanctimonious  men  err  regarding  their  highest  duties. 
One  may  be  punctilious  in  his  attendance  on  public 
worship;  make  long  prayers,  morning  and  evening; 
give  freely  to  pay  ministers  and  build  churches ;  and 
do  divers  other  most  excellent  things;  —  but  if  he  be 
not  charitable,  how  can  he  be  a  Christian?  People 
seem  to  overlook  the  great  and  infallible  test  of  chris- 
tian character.  Men  cannot  benefit  their  Maker  by 
their  prayers  and  praises ;  nor  can  they  benefit  Him 
in  any  other  way ;  not  even  by  rearing  tall  steeples, 
or  by  offerings  and  sacrifices,  however  meritorious  all 
these  may  be  as  manifestations  of  a  sense  of  depend- 
ence and  need,  as  stimulants  to  holy  emotions  and 
pious  acts,  or  as  evidence  of  grateful  hearts.  Ev- 
erything in  the  universe,  both  of  mind  and  matter, 
are  already  His ;  and  He  is  infinitely  beyond  the  reach 
of  all  our  attempts  to  do  Him  good.  And  hence,  does 
not  the  sphere  of  our  more  active  duties  lie  here 
among  our  fellow  men  and  temporal  things?  Here, 
we  may  do  beneficial  work.  Is  it  not,  then,  a  most 
solemn  truth,  that  so  far  as  our  practical  efforts  are 
concerned,  pure  religion  and  undefiled  consists,  first 
of  all  things,  in  doing  good  to  those  about  us ;  in  vis- 
iting the  widow  and  fatherless  in  their  affliction?  Our 
fellow  mortals  need  our  help  and  we  can  help  them ; 
our  Maker  needs  nothing,  and  before  him  we  have 
nothing  to  bestow.  Let  us,  then,  have  a  care  that  we 
do  not  spend  so  much  time  and  money  for  mere  devo- 
tional purposes  that  we  have  nothing  left  for  those 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  247 

other  eminently  important,  those  practical,  christian 
duties,  which  must  be  performed,  or  nothing  will 
avail. 

And  even  in  a  mere  temporal  view,  charity  is  not  to 
be  despised.  We  are  all  liable,  at  some  period  of  our 
lives,  to  be  in  adversity.  How  much,  then,  does  it 
become  us  to  so  bear  ourselves,  while  in  prosperity, 
that  when  the  evil  days  come  there  may  be  those  whom 
we  have  befriended,  to  offer  their  sympathy  and  aid. 

A  few  paces  southeast  of  the  Henchman  tomb,  yon- 
der, sleeps  the  dust  of  the  once  beautiful  and  brilliant 
Yerna  Humphrey.  It  was  during  the  earlier  part  of 
the  pastorate  of  the  good  Mr.  Whiting  —  or  about  the 
year  1644  —  that  her  eyes  first  opened  upon  the  scenes 
of  this  diversified  life. 

As  the  mind  of  Verna  began  to  unfold  it  became 
apparent  that  treasures  much  beyond  what  fall  to  the 
common  lot  had  been  bestowed  upon  her.  And  to  the 
sacred  work  of  the  right  training  of  that  exalted 
nature  none  could  be  more  wakeful  than  her  intelli- 
gent father.  But  how  often  it  is  found  that  in  the 
ways  of  a  mysterious  Providence  the  desires  of  a  fond 
heart  seem  not  to  be  blest. 

And  those  secondary  graces,  too,  the  charms  of  per- 
son, were  with  a  lavish  hand  bestowed  upon  Verna. 
As  her  form  expanded  in  early  womanhood,  an  ele- 
gance of  shape  and  exquisite  chiseling  of  feature 
presented  such  perfection  that  even  the  rude  wayfarer 
paused  to  admire. 

Mr.  AVhiting  had  taken  Verna  at  an  early  age  into 
his  little  class  at  the  parsonage  —  a  class  of  budding 
minds  which  he  loved  to  instruct  in  those  accomplish- 
ments which  would  be  most  fit  to  adorn  the  more  ele- 


248  ROTABLE   THINGS. 

vated  society  in  the  land  —  a  class  of  uncorrupted 
hearts  which  he  loved  to  strengthen  in  the  ways  of 
virtue  and  discipline  for  the  vicissitudes  of  life.  And 
in  many  of  those  young  hearts  the  genial  influences 
of  his  own  nature  seemed  to  infuse  themselves,  subdu- 
ing the  asperities  of  temper,  and  lighting  the  brow 
with  the  sunshine  of  universal  love.  How  potent  is 
the  power  that  the  instructor  of  youth  may  exercise 
for  good  or  evil  over  those  committed  to  his  charge. 
And  how  great  should  be  the  reward  of  the  faithful 
and  the  condemnation  of  the  unfaithful. 

We  find  Verna,  at  the  age  of  twenty,  very  much  in 
the  character  of  a  young  village  queen ;  the  admired 
of  all ;  the  object  of  tender  aspiration  in  many  a  manly 
heart;  graceful  in  form;  dignified  in  bearing;  affable 
and  engaging  in  all  her  Avays.  Her  mental  endow- 
ment and  education  were  such  that  she  was  able  to 
appreciate  the  lofty  in  sentiment  and  character,  the 
beautiful  in  nature  and  conception.  With  the  old 
poets,  congregated  in  the  little  library'  of  Mr.  Whiting, 
she  spent  many  congenial  hours.  The  vellum  quarto 
of  the  great  Light  of  Avon,  who  had  then  just  begun, 
as  it  were,  to  shed  his  glorious  rays  upon  the  world, 
often  reposed  upon  her  lap  while  in  dreamy  abstrac- 
tion she  indulged  the  new  and  vivid  conceptions  that 
stirred  the  inmost  recesses  of  her  soul. 

But  Verna's  love  of  books  was  not  such  as  to  with- 
draw her  from  the  delights  of  social  life.  She  was 
present  at  the  village  gatherings,  Avith  ringing  laugh 
and  alert  step  engaging  in  the  sports.  And  in  the 
more  quiet  enjoyments  of  the  fireside,  her  well  stored 
mind,  superior  conversational  powers,  and  dexterity  in 
adapting  herself  to  those  about  her,  made  her  every- 
where welcome. 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  249 

And  the  circle  that  Verna  brightened,  extended  be- 
yond the  limits  of  her  native  settlement.  Her  father 
was  sometimes  called  to  Boston  on  public  affairs  or  his 
own  private  business,  which  was  extensive,  and  occa- 
sionally remained  there  for  several  weeks,  taking  his 
beloved  daughter,  to  comfort  and  enliven  the  hours  of 
absence  from  his  pleasant  home..  And  having  those 
among  the  gay  people  of  the  colonial  metropolis  with 
whom  he  was  in  social  intimacy,  it  is  not  surprising 
that  with  a  father's  pride  he  sometimes  led  her  into 
scenes  and  society,  which,  while  most  captivating  to 
the  young  mind,  are  not  always  the  most  free  from 
danger.  It  was  on  these  occasions  that  Verna  formed 
acquaintances  with  some  who,  though  more  highly 
cultivated  were  not  more  virtuous  than  those  in  the 
retirement  of  the  humble  place  of  her  nativity.  She 
gradually  became  a  frequent  visitor  in  some  of  the 
leading  families  of  the  colony.  And  there,  in  those 
days,  it  was  not  uncommon  to  meet  scions  of  the  titled 
families  of  the  old  world. 

But  still  Verna  loved  her  home  with  the  ardor  of  a 
first  love.  The  sparkling  beaches,  with  their  spent 
waves  rolling  whisperingly  at  her  feet  as  if  struggling 
to  warn  of  mysteries  and  dangers  beyond  ;  the  dark 
caverns,  and  battlements  and  gray  towers  of  rock, 
where  yet  the  eagle  delighted  to  keep  watch  and 
ward ;  the  green  fields,  pleasant  hills,  and  winding 
lanes ;  the  humble  firesides,  where  she  always  found 
welcome  and  sympathy;  —  all  were  very  dear  to  her 
heart.  But  dearest  of  all  were  the  companions  of 
her  childhood  and  early  youth,  and  the  godly  man  who 
had  labored  so  faithfully  to  store  her  mind  with  all 
that  was  useful  and  good,  and  whose  pleasant  smile 
and  kind  word  had  so  often  cheered  her  step  as  she 


250  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

climbed  the  hill  of  knowledge.  And  during  the  hours 
of  absence,  in  sweet  sadness  would  her  mind  often 
revert  to  the  little  library  where  at  all  times  she  was 
welcome  to  commune  with  the  great  and  the  brilliant 
of  other  days  and  lands  whose  words  of  wisdom  and 
true  humanity,  and  glowing  conceptions  of  the  beau- 
tiful and  rare  might  strengthen  her  mind  and  animate 
her  heart.  There  her  beloved  Shakspeare  dwelt,  ready 
at  all  times  to  shed  his  vivifying  influence  into  her  soul; 
there  was  smiling  Spenser ;  and  the  quaint  old  wor- 
thies of  the  massive  tomes  who  taught  of  life  in  its 
more  sombre  aspects. 

Verna  knew  not  a  mother's  love.  But  her  father's 
affection  was  of  that  peculiarly  deep  and  tender  nature 
that  might  be  expected  to  characterise  a  noble  heart, 
widowed  at  the  birth  of  its  only  offspring.  Yerna's 
excellent  mother  had  hardly  passed  the  throes  that 
ushered  the  dear  expected  one  into  life,  ere  the  throes 
of  death  were  upon  her.  She  was  deeply  mourned. 
And  Mr.  Humphrey,  shrinking  from  a  possible  recur- 
rence of  such  a  scene  of  trial,  never  seemed  to  enter- 
tain a  thought  of  forming  another  union.  A  family 
connection,  well  skilled  in  household  affairs,  virtuous 
and  kind,  undertook  for  him  the  duties  of  housekeeper 
and  his  home  continued  one  of  peace  and  pleasantness. 

Mr.  Humphrey  was  a  man  of  means  and  benevolent 
heart.  His  broad  acres  were  well  tilled  and  his  barn 
and  store  houses  never  empty.  And  his  doors  were 
never  closed  against  the  needy  supplicant.  As  his 
beloved  daughter  grew  in  years,  the  good  man  de- 
lighted to  behold  in  her  the  sweet  fruits  of  those  les- 
sons of  charity  which  he  had  so  carefully  impressed  on 
her  uncorrupted  heart.  The  sick  and  poor  were  no 
strangers  to  her  kind  offices.     And  if  the  prayers  of 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GKOUNU,  251 

the  forlorn,  the  destitute  and  degraded,  in  union  with 
those  of  the  refined,  the  virtuous  and  elevated,  could 
have  availed,  her  foot  would  never  have  trod  a  thorny 
path. 

But  we  cannot  dwell  on  the  early  history  of  Verna. 
Her  visits  to  the  metropolis  had  brought  her  into  such 
society  as  was  not  safe  for  one  so  susceptible  and  con- 
fiding and  possessing  such  charms. 

During  the  pleasant  days  of  summer,  her  acquaint- 
ances sometimes  came  hither  to  enjoy  the  beauties  of 
nature,  and  the  charms  of  her  society.  Many  a  wood- 
land ramble  and  moonlight  stroll  upon  the  beaches, 
diversified  the  routine  of  happy  days.  And  it  is  to  be 
feared  that  these  occasions  may  have  aflorded  oppor- 
tunity for  the  wily  to  scatter  seeds  that  could  produce 
only  a  wayward  growth. 

It  was  now  a  few  years  after  the  Restoration.  And 
all  readers  of  English  history  know  how  rapidly  the 
vices  that  finally  so  distinguished  the  reign  of  Charles 
II.,  and  transmitted  their  enervating  effects  a  long  way 
into  the  Hanoverian  sovereignties,  began  to  prevail. 
The  colonies,  it  is  true,  were  in  a  great  measure  free 
from  the  corruptions  of  the  times.  But  not  altogether. 
Many  profligate  adventurers  came  hither  from  the 
father  land,  some  from  the  noble  ranks,  even,  for  tem- 
porary residence.  And  not  a  few  of  the  once  happy 
colonial  homes  were  made  desolate  by  their  arts. 

Go  with  us  now,  for  one  moment  into  the  still  pre- 
cincts of  the  parsonage. 

It  is  late  at  night. 

Serene  and  beautiful  the  moon  rides  high  in  the 
heavens.  And  the  few  stars  that  are  not  eclipsed  by 
her  brightness,  twinkle  with  a  radiance  clear  and  sharp. 


252  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

A  slight  breeze  comes  down  from  the  hills,  and  the 
noble  pines  that  stand  as  sentinels  at  the  gate,  shiver 
and  faintly  sigh. 

Let  us  enter  that  snng  little  library. 

The  candle  burns  dimly,  for  the  bent,  black  wick 
has  long  cried  in  vain  for  the  friendly  snuffers.  There 
are  persons  here;  but  only  two.  Mr.  Whiting  sits 
upon  one  side  of  the  table  Avith  an  open  Bible  before 
him.  Mr.  Humphrey  sits  upon  the  other  side  with  his 
head  resting  on  his  hand.  And  both  are  Aveeping.  It 
is  most  sad  to  see  strong  men  Aveep.  Children's  tears 
are  evanescent,  flowing  from  fountains  stirred  by  a 
breath  and  by  a  breath  put  to  rest.  Women's  tears 
freely  flow  at  the  common  vicissitudes  of  life,  and 
smiles  may  presently  appear  again.  Not  so  Avith  the 
more  enduring  spirit  of  man. 

Thus  sat  the  tAvo  friends  for  some  minutes.  And  it 
would  have  almost  seemed  irreverent  to  disturb  the 
flow  of  their  manly  grief  Then  the  minister  arose 
and  Avith  a  choked  utterance  begged  his  good  friend 
Humphrey  not  to  be  so  cast  down.  He  reminded  him 
that  God  in  his  good  providence  might  soon  bring 
him  out  of  his  terrible  afiliction ;  that  it  Avas  not  right 
for  a  Christian  so  to  distrust  and  despond;  and  that 
though  his  beloved  daughter  had  suddenly  and  mysteri- 
ously disappeared  from  his  sight,  yet,  Avhithersoever 
she  had  gone,  she  was  still  in  her  Maker's  sight.  Then 
he  again  read  the  comforting  Avords  at  which  the  Bible 
Avas  opened,  and  again  offered  up  one  of  those  fervid 
and  soul-stirring  prayers  for  Avhich  he  Avas  so  eminent, 
and  Avhich  gained  for  him,  from  the  rigid  Mather,  the 
expressive  title  of  "Angel  of  Lynn." 

And  the  sorroAving  father  returned  to  his  now  des- 
olate home  much  comforted  by  the  sympathy  and  godly 


THE    OLD    BURYING    GROUND.  253 

counsel  received  from  his  beloved  minister.  The  stan 
seemed  to  slied  a  mournful  light  upon  his  path,  and  the 
trees  to  sigh  with  unwonted  sadness. 

Dramatic  representations  have  been  known  ever 
since  the  civih'zation  of  man.  And  they  probably  will 
continue,  under  some  name,  till  man  again  returns  to  a 
savage  state.  Most  men  are  delighted  with  history. 
And  what  is  history  but  a  recounting  of  the  great 
dramas  of  life ;  a  recalling,  before  the  mind,  of  the 
scenes  and  actors  of  former  days  ? 

The  English,  though  perhaps  never  betraying  an 
over-fondness  for  the  stage,  have  always  regarded  it 
as  an  institution  of  civiHzation.  And  the  pen  of  their 
unapproachable  Shakspeare  has  made  the  whole  world 
their  debtors. 

Tho  dramas  of  the  Bard  of  Avon  will  be  admired 
so  long  as  men  continue  sufficiently  cultivated  to 
love  what  is  beautiful  in  the  outward  world  or  appre- 
ciate what  is  noble  in  their  own  nature.  These  dra- 
mas were  all  produced  between  the  years  1588  and 
1615.  And  soon  after  their  appearance  a  more  refined 
taste  and  fastidious  morality  began  to  prevail  in  stage 
representations ;  though  it  may  be  asked,  in  view  of 
this,  what  the  earlier  representations  must  have  been. 

In  the  time  of  Charles  I.  the  theatre  appears  to  have 
flourished.  But  when  the  sturdy  Puritans  came  into 
power,  as  might  have  been  expected,  it  received  no 
quarter.  It  languished  through  the  whole  time  of  the  ■ 
Commonwealth.  But  on  the  Restoration  it  began  to 
flourish  with  renewed  vigor. 

Female  actors  do  not  appear  to  have  been  known  on 
the  English  stage  before  the  time  of  Charles  11.  That 
a  real  woman,  and  not  a  boy  in  woman's  apparel,  should 


254  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

appear  to  play  the  part  of  Desdemona,  Juliet  or  Ophe- 
lia was  a  new  thing.  And  while  it  remained  new  it 
added  immensely  to  the  interest  of  the  theatre.  In- 
deed its  attractiveness  has  not  yet  ceased.  Great 
inducements  were  offered  for  the  most  beautiful  and 
accomplished  to  undertake  the  labors  of  dramatic  life. 
And  the  inducements  were  effectual  in  numerous  in- 
stances. 

The  meed  of  public  commendation  is  intoxicating. 
And  it  was  extremely  grateful  to  these  adventurous 
females  so  soon  to  become  the  objects  of  popular 
admiration,  the  recipients  of  popular  applause.  And 
then  again,  the  appearance  of  the  refined  and  virtuous, 
for  there  were  many  such,  had  a  tendency  to  elevate 
the  character  of  the  stage  itself.  But  that  good  effect 
was,  probably,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  only  tem- 
porary. And  it  certainly  was  not  an  age  when  much 
elevation  would  be  looked  for  in  that  quarter. 

While  all  but  the  most  provokingly  illiberal  are 
ready  to  admit  that  there  have  ever  been  in  the  dra- 
matic profession  females  who  did  honor  to  their  sex, 
the  general  opinion  of  the  world,  that  it  has  never 
been  one  the  best  fortified  against  evil,  must  be  con- 
curred in.  The  young  and  uncontaminated  female, 
entering  upon  the  life  of  an  actress,  must  necessarily 
give  no  heed  to  many  of  the  out-guards  that  in  almost 
every  other  sphere  remain  to  warn  of  danger,  and 
expose  herself  to  influences  but  poorly  calculated  to 
aid  the  growth  of  virtue.  Herein,  perhaps,  lies  the 
greatest  danger.     And  it  seems  to  be  an  inherent  one. 

In  the  year  1673,  there  appeared,  unheralded,  on 
the  theatrical  boards  of  London,  an  actress  whose 
personal  charms  and  extraordinary  powers  of  delinea- 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  255 

tion  at  once  elicited  the  admiration  of  all.  It  is  not  in 
that  sphere,  as  in  many  others,  that  excellence  is  slow- 
in  becoming  known.  The  public  eye  being  constantly 
on  the  candidates  for  favor,  the  question  of  merit  or 
demerit  is  soon  determined.  In  the  present  case  there 
was  but  one  voice  and  that  loud  in  praise.  Many  who 
had  never  been  accustomed  to  attend  the  theatre  were 
at  once  attracted  there  —  students  from  their  closets, 
philosophers  and  divines.  Thus  was  this  new  and 
brilliant  star  of  genius  eminently  honored  by  those 
who  could  appreciate  and  enjoy  the  rare  in  intellectual 
power  and  discernment.  And  thither  also  were  drawn 
those  from  the  titled  ranks ;  among  whom,  it  is  true, 
were  some  whose  desires  w^ere  centered  in  quite  other 
charms  than  those  of  mind. 

The  little  coteries  that  gathered  in  the  green  room, 
too  often  numbered  among  them  those  whose  objects 
were  impure  and  from  whose  advances  the  sensitive 
and  virtuous  might  well  shrink.  But  these  were  gen- 
erally from  among  those  whose  wealth  or  position  so 
improperly  insured  indulgences  which  would  at  once 
be  denied  to  the  less  favored  of  fortune.  That  virtue 
must  be  doubly  sti'ong,  which  can  withstand  covert 
assaults  and  pertinacious  and  gilded  appliances  under 
such  circumstances  as  those  in  which  this  queen  of 
the  drama  was  placed. 

The  Merry  Monarch  himself  was  sometimes  behind 
the  scenes,  curious  in  his  disguises,  and  captivating 
in  the  relation  of  his  whimsical  adventures.  There, 
too,  came  Edward  Randolph,  with  manly  form  and 
dark  curling  hair;  Pembroke,  so  affable  and  kind;  the 
youthful  EUenborough,  so  witty  and  polite ;  to  say 
nothing  of  others  of  more  burly  and  boisterous  trim; 
men  of  wealth,  fashion,  leisure  and  taste,  but  destitute 


256  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

alike  of  heart  and  principle.  Were  not  these  danger- 
ous associates,  though  only  for  now  and  then  an  hour, 
in  the  green  room  of  a  theatre,  for  one  innocent,  and 
by  nature  confiding  and  unsuspicious? 

The  carriage  of  some  young  noble  was  always  wait- 
ing at  tlie  door,  when  the  play  closed,  to  convey  the 
fascinating  Star  to  her  lodgings;  and  in  the  morning  a 
fresh  bouquet  was  sure  to  be  sent  for  her  acceptance. 
Upon  the  off-nights  some  little  party  always  demanded 
her  presence  where  wit,  wine,  and  cards  were  special 
adjuncts.  But  unanticipated  consequences  sometimes 
flow  fi-om  wine  and  cards.  And  when  to  them  are 
added  the  excitements  that  the  smile  or  frown  of  a 
beautiful  woman  may  create,  surely  perils  abound. 
More  than  one  passage  at  swords  grew  out  of  these 
occasions. 

Our  heroine  of  the  stage  became  more  and  more  the 
votary  of  festive  life  as  the  season  advanced  and  her 
circle  of  acquaintance  extended.  Her  wakeful  and 
brilliant  wit,  superior  education  and  capacity  to  trace 
the  sinuous  workings  of  the  human  mind  rendered  her 
most  able  to  rule  in  such  society.  Her  dark  hazel 
eyes  could  flash  with  the  fires  of  defiance  or  scorn  on 
those  whose  approach  she  would  check,  or  melt  in 
child  like  softness  at  the  advance  of  such  as  she  would 
welcome. 

The  favorite  and  almost  only  characters  that  she 
personated  were  those  immortal  ones  drawn  by  Shaks- 
peare.  And  while  treading  the  boards,  lost  in  the 
counterfeit,  the  applause  that  rang  from  the  almost 
frantic  crowd,  was  entirely  unheeded  by  her.  She 
never  appeared  in  what  is  now  known  as  melo-drame, 
nor  in  farce  or  dance.  But  in  the  song  that  pertained 
to  her  lofty  part  she  sang  with  a  voice  so  modulated  to 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  257 

the  stately  demands  of  chivalric  achievement,  the  ten- 
der accents  of  love,  or  the  plaintive  strains  of  grief, 
that  a  sympathetic  cord  was  touched  in  every  heart. 

Gaudy  tinsel,  patcliing  and  painting,  she  eschewed. 
Nature's  ruddy  glow  upon  the  cheek  and  pure  white 
upon  the  brow,  raven  lashes  and  ample  tresses  of  dark 
chesnut  were  all  that  she  required.  Her  robes  were 
few,  but  rich,  appropriate  and  becoming. 

So  passed  on  the  season,  full  of  excitement,  full  of 
success. 

But  did  she  never,  after  her  professional  duties  were 
over,  and  her  admirers  dismissed  —  after  her  fevered 
head  had  tossed  upon  the  pillow  till  the  east  was 
all  but  gilded  by  the  coming  day  —  did  she  never  then 
think  of  a  quiet  and  peaceful  retreat,  far  away  among 
green  hills  and  beside  pleasant  waters,  with  tender 
hearts  to  feel  her  cares,  honest  hearts  to  guide  her 
erring  steps ;  of  hours  of  sweet  and  undisturbed  re- 
pose coming  on  with  the  setting  sun,  and  hours  of 
useful  activity  beginning  with  the  opening  day?  Did 
she  never  think  of  a  quaint  and  spireless  meeting 
house  standing  down  a  grassy  lane,  where  gathered 
familiar  forms,  and  where  familiar  faces  were  upturned 
to  the  godly  preacher,  who  loved  to  speak  words  of 
heavenly  comfort,  and  whose  lips  trembled  to  utter 
words  of  pain  even  in  the  sinner's  ear?  More  than  all, 
did  she  never  think  of  a  sequestered  burial  place, 
where  lay  an  angel  mother,  sighed  over  by  swaying 
trees;  or  of  a  tender  father,  with  bowed  form,  visiting 
that  grave  and  there,  with  gushing  tears  for  the  dead, 
mingling  those  proceeding  from  more  unutterable  grief 
for  an  erring  loved  one  still  in  life? 

Another  season  came  and  this  extraordinary  young 
woman  again  appeared  on  the  theatrical  boards,  peer- 

17 


258  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

less  still.  But  she  was  more  stately  and  reserved  in 
her  daily  walk,  and  less  approachable  by  those  who 
were  wont  to  meet  her  in  a  familiar  way.  So  far 
as  professional  intercourse  was  concerned  her  affa- 
bility was  as  conspicuous  as  ever;  but  the  non-profes- 
sional visitors  of  the  green  room  soon  perceived  that 
they  must  seek  other  objects  on  which  to  bestow  their 
attentions  and  favors.  Yet  there  was  one  whom  she 
always  greeted  with  a  smile  of  welcome.  And  he  was 
a  wealthy  young  Earl.  It  was  his  blazoned  carriage 
that  conveyed  her  home ;  and  it  was  company  of  his 
approval  that  she  entertained.  Plis  means  procured 
the  rich  jewels  that  now  adorned  her  person,  and  the 
elegances  of  her  enchanted  home.  True,  he  was  not 
deemed  of  the  most  virtuous  class;  but  he  was  young, 
polite,  witty  and  handsome.  The  customs  of  the  times 
did  not  demand  fastidiousness  in  morals,  especially 
among  those  in  his  sphere.  His  sovereign  had  set  an 
example  that  most  were  too  ready  to  follow.  And 
fashion  is  almost  as  sure  as  natural  desire  to  open  the 
door  to  some  species  of  vice.  The  reader  must  be 
left  to  draw  his  own  conclusion  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
intimacy  that  had  become  established  between  the 
noble  Earl  and  the  fascinating  Actress. 

A  beautiful  villa  stood  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  a 
few  miles  below  London.  It  was  an  erection  of  the 
time  of  Elizabeth,  and  of  exquisite  loveliness  as  re- 
garded its  own  charming  self,  its  immediate  surround- 
ings, and  the  enchanting  views  afforded  from  its  turrets 
and  balconies.  The  little  park  sloped  gently  to  the 
river,  with  gravel  walks  and  grassy  paths,  all  finely 
shaded  by  noble  trees;  and  fountains  sparkled  in 
the  sunshine.     Stretching  far  away  upon  either  hand, 


THE   OLD    BURYING    GROUND.  259 

and  be3'ond  the  river,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach, 
were  cultivated  fields  and  green  acclivities,  dotted 
with  farm  house  and  copse,  all  rejoicing  in  heaven's 
glorious  light. 

The  villa  gardens  were  full  of  choice  flowers  and 
luscious  fruits.  And  here  and  there,  in  some  emboAV- 
ered  niche,  was  a  statue,  of  the  old  mythology. 

Within  the  villa,  the  elegant  rooms  were  well  sup- 
plied with  books,  pictures,  and  costly  ornaments.  And 
a  ponderous  old  harpsicord  stood  in  the  hall,  inviting 
the  touch  of  such  Avandering  minstrel,  the  representa- 
tive of  England's  more  chivalric  days,  as  might  stray 
within  the  villa  precincts. 

But  who  was  the  presiding  genius  in  this  charming 
retreat?  The  same  triumphant  tragedy  queen  who  a 
few  years  before,  upon  the  London  stage,  so  astonished 
the  multitude.  Nor  was  she  mistress  of  the  mansion 
alone,  but  also  of  the  gay  Earl,  a  part  of  whose  patri- 
mony it  was.  There  now  she  sits  in  the  gorgeous 
drawing  room  that  overlooks  the  calmly  flowing  river, 
surrounded  by  every  outward  appliance  for  peace  and 
happiness.  A  sweet  little  child  leans  on  her  knee, 
looking  up  with  a  face  full  of  ti*tisting  love.  And  she 
looks  down  upon  that  curly  head  with  all  the  placid 
joy  known  in  a  mother's  love  for  her  only  born.  But 
a  sickening  mist  comes  up  between  her  vision  and  that 
sinless  idol  of  her  heart ;  a  mist,  arising  from  the  foun- 
tains of  impurity  which  she  herself  has  stirred.  There 
is  a  gnawing  worm  within.  Her  bosom  heaves  as 
unbidden  thoughts  of  the  uncontaminated  joys  of 
other  days  arise,  days  when  she  was  morally  fair  as 
that  unerring  one  upon  her  knee.  Again,  we  behold 
her  seated  on  a  balconj',  scanning  the  glorious  scene, 
and  with  long  drawn  sigh,  in  nature's  holy  quietude, 


2G0  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

yearning  for  that  peace  which  the  uncorrupted  in 
heart  and  innocent  in  life,  alone  can  know. 

*In  this  lovely  place,  some  of  the  noblest  of  the  realm 
Avere  at  times  found.  On  occasions,  it  was  the  resort 
of  certain  individuals  who  would  in  a  private  way  and 
for  private  ends,  discuss  the  great  matters  of  state. 
The  Earl  himself  held  a  considerable  official  position, 
was  ambitious  and  somewhat  given  to  intrigue.  In- 
deed was  there  ever  a  politician  who  was  not  an  in- 
triguer? He  was  a  favorite  of  royalty  ;  but  even  this 
did  not  place  him  above  plotting;  for  there  are  many 
who  would  rather  achieve  by  intrigue  what  they  could 
more  easil}^  attain  by  open  and  fair  means. 

In  this  retreat,  these  restless  spirits  were  safe  from 
observation.  And  like  other  females,  of  powerful  and 
aspiring  mind,  who  have  in  all  ages  made  their  influ- 
ence felt  in  affairs  of  state,  the  reigning  spirit  '"'of  the 
villa  joined  in  the  political  debates.  And  her  services 
to  the  party  whose  interests  she  espoused  were  of 
much  value,  for  blandishments  Avill  often  accomplish 
what  reasoning  cannot. 

The  period  to  which  these  occurrences  relate  was 
one  when  the  condition  of  the  American  colonies 
was  exciting  much  interest  in  the  mother  country. 
Their  commerce  was  extending;  their  fisheries  were 
productive  ;  their  forests  were  ready  to  yield  a  large 
increase.  And  there  was  a  deep  and  wide  spread  con- 
viction that  they  were  destined  at  no  very  distant  day 
to  assume  a  position  in  the  world  important  and  com- 
manding. Many  ambitious  and  avaricious  eyes  were 
directed  thither.  And  many  consultations  were  held 
at  the  villa  among  those  whose  desires  would  be  satis- 
fied only  in  the  broadest  fields  of  enterprise. 

When  the  accomplished  hostess  partook  in  the  po- 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  261 

litical  discussions  relating  to  those  far-oflf  colonies, 
she  astonished  all  by  her  accurate  knowledge  of  their 
histor}',  condition,  wants  and  rights.  And  she  showed 
herself  their  uncompromising  friend,  resolutely  op- 
posing every  suggestion  that  might  endanger  any  in- 
terest of  theirs.  Edward  Randolph  more  than  once 
quailed  before  her  flashing  eye.  His  inveterate  hos- 
tility to  the  interests  of  the  colonies  as  well  as  his  base 
selfishness  was  apparent  even  to  minds  much  less  keen 
and  wakeful  than  hers.  And  king  Charles  himself,  who 
on  one  occasion  in  disguise  came  beneath  her  roof, 
was  by  his  very  disguise,  for  she  knew  him  well, 
compelled  with  closed  mouth  to  listen  to  such  an  out- 
pouring of  bitter  truth  regarding  his  administration  of 
American  affairs,  as  had  never  before  greeted  his  pam- 
pered ears. 

These  were  times  immediately  preceding  the  disso- 
lution of  the  colonial  charters.  And  as  the  old  lord 
keeper  of  the  king's  conscience  on  several  occasions 
found  his  way  there,  perhaps  some  reason  other  than 
mere  mistake,  negligence  or  accident,  may  have  ex- 
isted why  in  the  succeeding  reign  no  record  was  found 
of  certain  judgments  adverse  to  colonial  interests,  well 
known  to  have  been  passed. 

The  social  delights  of  this  elegant  retreat  drew 
together  the  witty  and  fishionable.  The  Earl  was 
lavish  in  his  expenditures,  and  the  rarest  entertain- 
ments were  given.  Classic  and  poetical  representa- 
tions, music  and  dancing,  enlivened  the  gliding  hours; 
cards  and  wine  furnished  their  excitements. 

But  there  was  a  sudden  and  mournful  termination 
of  these  things. 

With  appalling  swiftness  the  arrow  of  Death  laid  low 
the  doting  Earl.     Then  quickly  upon  that  gem  of  tho 


262  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

river  fell  a  murky  cloud.  Not  more  rapidly  does  the 
thunder  cloud  obscure  the  sun  than  did  this  sad  death 
extinguish  the  brightness  of  that  radiant  home  of  plea- 
sure. 

The  heroine  was  now  hardly  of  an  age  to  make  new 
conquests  by  personal  charms.  And  it  Avas  not  easy 
even  in  that  morally  derelict  age,  for  one  who  had 
so  long  stood  in  a  position  like  hers,  to  attain  a  posi- 
tion among  those  who  had  never  deviated,  however 
eminent  her  other  qualifications  might  be.  The  Earl 
was  of  a  generous  nature.  But  so  sudden  was  his 
decease  that  no  provision  was  made  for  her  for  whom 
he  really  had  a  most  tender  attachment,  and  on  whom 
he  had  lavished  so  much.  It  would  hardly  be  expected 
that  his  family  connections,  who  had  been  to  a  degree 
indirectly  impoverished  by  his  extravagances,  should 
supply  his  omission.  And  so  the  poor  erring  one  was 
left  in  penury.  Can  there  be  wonder,  then,  that  she 
mourned  as  one  without  hope  ? 

On  a  cold  but  brilliant  night  in  the  winter  of  1691, 
there  came  slowly  walking  along  the  road,  from  Boston, 
a  female  traveler,  wrapped  as  well  as  she  might  be  in 
a  scanty  cloak.  She  had  walked  all  the  way  from 
that  place,  and  now,  on  entering  the  village  of  Lynn, 
seemed  so  fatigued  as  to  be  scarcely  able  to  support 
herself. 

A  piercing  northwest  wind  swept  over  the  snow, 
which  sparkled  in  the  moonbeams,  and  now  and  then 
whirled  up  in  eddies  so  furiously  as  almost  to  blind 
such  unfortunate  ones  as  happened  to  be  exposed  to 
its  fury.  And  the  little  drifts  accumulated  so  fast 
across  the  traveled  path,  that  the  way  became  every 
moment  more  and  more  difficult. 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  263 

The  garments  of  the  forlorn  traveler  to  whom  we 
have  alluded  were  entirely  insufficient  for  protection 
against  the  severe  cold,  and  of  such  texture  as  was 
worn  by  those  in  the  most  humble  condition.  Never- 
theless, she  toiled  on,  perseveringly,  aided  by  a  rude 
staff  that  she  had  picked  up  by  the  wayside. 

By  her  side  was  a  little  girl,  who  was  quite  as  thinly 
ciad,  and  whose  chattering  teeth  and  benumbed  limbs 
told  of  her  suffering.  But  no  complaint  was  uttered 
by  either. 

They  proceeded  in  silence,  excepting  that  occasion- 
ally the  girl,  in  a  tone  of  the  most  tender  solicitude, 
would  inquire  if  her  mother's  strength  were  still  suffi- 
cient for  their  trial.  She  seemed  to  have  no  thought 
of  herself,  of  the  torn  shoes  from  which  the  little  rag 
covered  toes  protruded,  nor  of  her  tattered  bonnet, 
from  which  rolled  a  profusion  of  glossy  tresses,  which 
the  wind  seemed  delighted  to  whirl  about  by  its  cold 
breath.  And  as  she  made  her  pathetic  inquiries,  she 
would  turn  her  drooping  eyes  upon  her  parent,  while 
the  moonbeam  lighted  the  tears  that,  in  spite  of  all 
her  efforts,  forced  their  way  from  the  quivering  lids. 
But  the  mother  uttered  no  response.  She  could  only 
pause  in  her  weary  walk,  press  that  dear  one  to  her 
heart  and  sigh. 

So  the  two  traveled  on.  At  about  midnight  they 
were  opposite  the  house  of  Jacob  Burrill.  Here,  by  a 
misstep  upon  the  ice,  the  mother  fell,  and  was  so  stun- 
ned as  to  become  entirely  unconscious.  The  daugh- 
ter, in  wild  distress,  flew  to  the  neighboring  door, 
arousing  the  inmates  and  begging  for  assistance.  No 
one  in  distress  ever  applied  at  that  door  in  vain.  The 
good  man,  in  a  half  nude  condition,  rushed  to  the  re- 
lief of  the  wayfarers.     They  were,  without  question 


2G4  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

or  comment  instantly  taken  beneath  the  hospitable  roof. 
A  bright  fire  soon  burnetl ;  restoratives  were  apphed  ; 
and  presently  a  warm  repast  invited  their  attention. 
They  were  very  hungry,  and  partook  with  grateful 
hearts.  The  woman  had  received  but  slight  injury 
from  her  fall,  and  the  accident  was  soon  almost  foigot- 
ten.  An  hour  after  found  the  two  safe  in  a  bed  of 
such  softness  as  they  had  not  enjo^^ed  for  many  a 
weary  month,  their  prayers  having  first  ascended  for 
blessings  on  their  kind  deliverer. 

In  the  morning,  they  began  to  prepare  for  departure. 
But  a  few  casual  inquiries  led  to  a  long  and  eainest 
consultation.  And  it  seemed  a  strange  Providence 
that  so  ordered  things  that  they  remained  the  welcome 
recipients  of  Mr.  Burrill's  bounty  till  the  opening  of 
spring,  rendering  such  small  service  as  they  were  able 
to,  in  return,  by  the  needle,  at  the  spinning-wheel,  or 
in  the  dairy. 

The  woman  was  something  beyond  the  meridian  of 
life.  But  trouble  had  given  her  the  marks  of  one 
much  in  advance  of  that  period.  Silvery  locks  skirted 
her  care-worn  brow;  her  cheeks  Avere  wan,  her  form 
was  bent.  Yet  there  was  a  lustre  in  her  sunken  eye, 
that  spoke  of  a  soul  yet  alive  to  the  realities  of  life. 
And  her  whole  appearance  indicated  that  she  was  one 
who  had  fallen  from  better  fortunes.  She  was  so  re- 
tiring in  her  habits  as  to  shrink  even  from  friendly 
visitors,  though  the  little  conversation  into  which  she 
could  be  drawn,  exhibited  a  mind  of  intelligence  and 
strength,  and  a  resignation  worthy  of  respect.  She 
made  no  acquaintances,  and  appeared  desirous  only  of 
finishing  her  earthly  journey  by  some  quiet,  seques- 
tered path. 

The  daughter  had  a  gentle   spirit,  and  her  habits 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  265 

seemed  as  retiring  as  those  of  her  parent.  She  was 
iutelHg-ent  and  pleasing-  in  person ;  and  her  modest 
attire  was  always  tasteful  and  clean.  She  loved  books 
and  flowers,  but  seldom  seemed  inclined  to  associate 
with  other  children. 

There  were  many  visitors  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Burrill 
and  not  a  few  kindly  seconded  the  efforts  of  the  good 
family  to  cheer  the  strangers.  But  their  success  was 
by  no  means  commensurate  with  their  endeavors.  Vil- 
lage gossips  were  baffled  in  tiieir  attempts  to  ascertain 
the  cause  of  their  sorrow,  or  the  reason  of  their  so- 
journ in  the  settlement. 

When  the  grass  and  flowers  began  to  appear,  the 
mother  and  daughter  retired  to  a  quiet  little  home,  far 
up  a  green  lane,  where  they  purposed  dwelling  in  seclu- 
sion, by  their  own  industry  supplying  their  few  wants. 
Mr.  Burrill,  with  his  wonted  benevolence,  assisted  them 
in  procuring  the  few  things  necessary  for  their  hum- 
Mo  home,  and  was  pleased  when  he  saw  them  quietly 
settled  there,  surrounded,  as  they  said,  with  all  they 
desired.  And  it  was  veiy  pleasant  to  him  occasion- 
ally to  call  on  them  as  he  came  from  his  field,  hard  by, 
to  speak  a  word  of  cheer.  And  it  would  have  greatly 
added  to  his  own  happiness,  to  have  seen  them  smile 
as  if  returning  to  life's  enjoyments.  But  there  they 
lived,  the  possessors  of  many  blessings,  among  the 
chief  of  which  was  their  cordial  and  unwaverins:  affec- 
tion  for  each  other.  On  the  Sabbath,  their  seats  in 
the  meeting  house  were  seldom  vacant;  and  none 
wei-e  more  attontive  to  the  long  drawn  exercises  than 
the}'.  The  mother's  black  veil  was  seldom  lifted  ex- 
cepting now  and  then  to  permit  the  fresh  air  to  play 
freely  on  her  brow. 

The  summer  waned. 
L 


266  .     NOTABLE   THINGS. 

It  was  a  sad  thing  to  behold  that  mother  thus  pur- 
suing a  sunless  path ;  but  much  sadder  to  behold  the 
prematurely  fading  daughter.  The  little  garden,  well 
stored  with  choice  flowers  which  had  been  transplant- 
ed from  the  hill  sides  by  their  own  hands;  the  woody 
acclivity  beyond ;  and  the  winding  lane,  furnished  the 
scene  of  almost  their  whole  exercise  out  of  doors. 
Occasionally,  however,  as  the  shades  of  evening  were 
gathering,  the  mother  would  steal  away  alone,  for  a 
brief  space  to  wander  in  this  burial  place.  And  it  was 
observed  that  she  lingered  chiefly  at  a  particular  grave, 
bending  over  it  and  deeply  sighing,  as  if  exercised  by 
some  terrible  agony,  and  finally  vanishing,  in  the  dim 
twilight,  like  a  troubled  ghost. 

Before  the  winds  of  later  autumn  began  to  howl,  a 
great  affliction  descended  on  that  home  of  love  and 
sadness.  The  daughter  was  stricken  down  by  disease 
incurable.  The  sorrow  that  now  weighed  upon  the 
mother's  heart,  led  to  her  laying  aside,  in  some  de- 
gree, the  reserve  in  which  she  had  so  enwrapped  her- 
self; and  she  received  the  few  neighbors  who  came  to 
offer  their  sympathy  and  assistance,  with  many  expres- 
sions of  sincere  gratitude. 

It  was  a  wild  autumn  evening  and  very  late.  The 
fast  declining  daughter  lay  upon  her  lowly  couch. 
She  had  been  restless  for  hours,  and  now  breathed 
heavily,  with  an  occasional  quiver  of  the  whole  frame, 
seeming,  in  halfdreamy  state,  to  be  struggling  for 
something  that  she  could  not  grasp.  Suddenly  she 
waked  to  full  consciousness  and  convulsively  seized  the 
hand  that  lay  upon  her  pillow.  Then  with  touching  ear- 
nestness she  began  to  talk  of  a  strange  vision  she  had 
had ;  a  vision  so  beautiful  and  apparently  real  that  she 
could  almost  pray  for  its  return.     She  was  in  a  splendid 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  2CT 

mansion  with  brilliant  rooms  and  music  and  gay  com- 
pany. A  shady  lawn,  with  fountains,  sloped  to  a  broad 
river,  beyond  which  fields,  and  green  hills  spread  out, 
all  glowing  in  the  sunshine.  And  in  the  most  beauti- 
ful room  of  the  mansion  her  dear  mother  sat ;  and  she 
herself,  a  little  child,  leaned  upon  her  knee.  And 
there  came  a  man  of  noble  form  and  pleasant  look, 
who  put  his  arm  about  her  mother's  neck,  bowed 
down  and  kissed  lier.  And  upon  his  knee  he  took 
herself,  smoothed  her  curling  hair,  and  said  she  was 
his  dearest  child.  He  hugged  her  to  his  heart  and 
said  that  he  would  never  suffer  even  the  wind  to  blow 
hard  upon  her,  he  so  loved  her. 

Scarcely  had  the  little  one  thus  delivered  herself, 
when  she  sank  down  again  exhausted. 

A  groaning  utterance  was  just  escaping  the  moth- 
er's heaving  breast,  when  there  came  a  fierce  knocking 
at  the  door.  It  was  opened,  and  two  burly  men,  bois- 
terous and  forbid(h*ng  in  aspect,  entered,  announcing 
themselves  as  officers  of  the  law,  come  to  arrest  the 
woman  on  the  charge  of  witchcraft.  This  seemed  the 
bitterest  drop  in  the  cup  where  all  was  bitterness. 
All  her  remaining  powers  of  endurance  were  sum- 
moned; and  though  she  staggered  she  did  not  fall. 
In  silence  she  gave  ear  to  what  they  had  to  say.  She 
had  been  "  cried  out  against,"  a  complaint  entered, 
and  now  she  must  be  held  to  answer.  As  she  began 
to  comprehend  her  new  position,  a  terrible  weight 
fell  upon  her.  She  could  not  speak,  but  in  woe  unut- 
terable pointed  to  the  couch  whereon  her  dying  daugh- 
ter lay,  as  if  to  beg  a  respite  only  till  that  beloved  one 
were  in  her  winding  sheet.  And  from  that  couch 
there  came  a  feeble  voice,  pleading,  in  childlike  sim- 
plicity, against  the   strange,  false  accusation.     It  wasj 


268  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

a  scene  of  sucii  extreme  agony  tliat  even  the  coarsely 
disciplined  hearts  of  those  rude  men  were  deeply 
touched.     Then  they  withdrew  to  consult. 

And  now  the  mother,  with  tearless  eye,  sat  down 
upon  the  bedside.  She  spoke  not,  but  gazed  fixedly 
upon  that  calm  face  upturned  on  the  pillow.  Those 
gentle,  dying  eyes  opened,  full  of  love  and  heavenly 
radiance.  Those  lips  quivered  as  if  words  pressed 
for  utterance.  Then,  by  an  effort  that  taxed  all  her 
powers,  the  dying  one  raised  herself,  as  if  in  a  last 
attempt  to  declare  something  that  weighed  upon  her 
spirit's  wing.  But  the  struggle  was  too  much.  She 
fell  back.  A  slight  quiver  ran  through  her  fragile 
form,  and  — 

ilnother  ransomed  spirit  entered  heaven. 

At  that  awful  moment,  too,  the  light  of  the  mother's 
mind  went  out.  With  the  daughter's  spirit  it  fled 
away,  not  again  to  revisit  and  illuminate  its  earthly 
home. 

When  the  men  returned,  they  even  wept  at  the  sor- 
rowful scene.  The  living  one  they  found  quiet  and 
submissive.  She  uttered  not  a  word,  but  stood  at 
the  bedside,  looking  down  upon  her  lost  treasure,  with 
a  vacant  gaze,  shedding  no  tear,  heaving  no  sigh. 

In  the  morning  the  townspeople  began  to  gather. 
Mr.  Burrill  and  his  good  wife  were  there  among  the 
first.  Mr.  Shepard,  the  minister,  also  came,  and  the 
village  doctor,  the  magistrate,  and  divers  excited  wo- 
men and  curious  children. 

They  declared  that  the  woman's  heart  was  broken. 
And  so  it  was. 

Another  spring  came,  and  though  her  health  was 
goofl,  her  mind  was  still  a  blank.  She  was  constantly 
wandering  about.     With  venturesome  step  she  would 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  260 

climb  tlie  rng-ged  clifF  and  delve  into  the  glen  and 
rocky  pass,  as  if  in  quest  of  something  that  she  longed 
to  find.  She  would  gaze  into  the  river,  and  trace  the 
woodland  stream  thi-ough  swamp  and  tangled  dell, 
with  anxious  eye  peering  into  every  nook,  and  with 
lier  long  staff  curiously  examining  the  covert  tliat  her 
foot  could  not  reach.  And  then  she  would  return, 
disappointed  and  restless,  on  the  morrow  to  renew, 
with  fresh  vigor,  her  unsuccessful  search.  Occasion- 
ally, she  would  come  hither,  of  a  pleasant  evening,  and 
gaze  intently  for  a  few  minutes  on  the  same  grave  that 
she  had  before  been  accustomed  to  visit.  During  her 
wanderings  in  the  woods,  she  would  sometimes  gather 
flowers  and  mosses,  ferns  and  green  twigs ;  and  when 
on  the  sea  shore,  she  would  cull  glittering  pebbles  and 
curious  shells.  But  none  of  these  seemed  objects  for 
which  she  was  in  search. 

One  day  during  the  hot  summer  of  1693,  she  strayed 
into  the  heart  of  a  distant  swamp.  About  nightfall 
she  was  seen  emerging  from  the  woods  with  a  falter- 
ing step,  as  if  extremely  fatigued.  Presently  she  sat 
down  on  a  rock;  and  those  who  observed  her  tliought 
nothing  more  of  it,  supposing  that  she  was  resting. 

In  the  morning  she  was  found  by  the  rock,  swollen 
and  dead.  It  was  supposed  that  she  had  been  bitten 
by  a  rattlesnake;  for  whenever  she  discovered  one  of 
those  venomous  reptiles,  she  would  pursue  it  vigor- 
ously, often  exposing  herself  to  imminent  danger. 

On  the  following  day  the  friendly  grave  received 
her  weary  form. 

There,  a  few  paces  from  that  ancient  tomb,  as  we 
said,  sleeps  the  dust  of  the  once  beautiful  and  brilliant 
Verua  Humphrey  —  the  radiant  star  that  brightened 


270  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

many  a  home  of  our  fathers  in  tliose  far  off  times  — 
the  triumphant  actress  of  the  London  stage  —  the 
charmer  of  the  young  heart  of  one  of  England's  no- 
blest blood  —  the  returned  wanderer.  Yes,  returned, 
with  broken  spirit  and  contrite  heart,  in  penury,  sor- 
row and  darkness  to  lay  her  weary  head  in  this  quiet 
spot.  And  here  for  generations  she  has  lain,  no  more 
exposed  to  the  temptations  and  reverses  that  attended 
her  journey  in  life. 

And  that  dear  offspring  of  unsanctioned  love,  all 
unconscious  of  its  tainted  birth,  lies  by  her  side,  un- 
disturbed by  human  conflicts  or  by  nature's  rage. 

And  is  there  no  good  lesson  to  be  drawn  from  this 
simple  history  of  Verna  Humphrey? 

Somewhere  within  a  short  distance  of  that  stained 
marble  shaft,  that  rises  rather  ostentatiously  beneath 
the  glossy  foliage  —  though  the  precise  spot  cannot 
now  be  pointed  out  —  must  have  been  laid  the  dust  of 
the  godly  AVhiting,  who  for  more  than  forty  years  was 
the  beloved  minister  of  the  flock  who  gathered  in  the 
rude  sanctuary  reared  by  the  early  fathers  of  the  Plan- 
tation. And  during  that  long  ministry,  how  many  of 
those  who  had  received  holy  instruction  and  comfort 
from  his  lips,  must  have  been  gathered  to  welcome 
his  coming.  No  stone  marks  the  spot  where  he  lies 
in  his  serene  repose,  but  his  name  and  his  virtues  are 
recorded  on  tablets  more  enduring  than  marble. 

You  perceive  that  the  venerable  man  must  lie  near 
Verna  Humphrey's  resting  place.  And  on  the  resurrec- 
tion morn,  when  the  tenants  of  all  these  graves  come 
forth  to  meet  their  Judge,  if  the  day  for  intercession  be 
not  past,  and  the  greater  Advocate  has  not  alread}'  se- 
cured  her  redemption,  she  will  have  an  earnest  inter- 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  271 

cesser  in  him  who  in  her  spring  time  of  life  prayed  so 
fervently  and  labored  so  faithfully  that  she  might 
never  stray  from  the  paths  of  purity  and  peace. 

Just  about  where  yonder  irreverently  laughing  girl 
is  plucking  a  flower,  was  buried,  in  1G85,  Manasseh 
Guatolf.  He  was  born  a  Jew.  Amid  the  sunny  hills 
of  the  olive  and  vine,  in  luxuriant  Spain,  did  his  eyes 
first  open  to  the  scenes  of  life.  Being  the  offspring 
of  parents  conspicuous  for  their  wealth  and  proud  of 
their  Hebrew  lineage,  no  pains  were  spared  to  confer 
upon  him  a  superior  education,  especially  in  all  the 
learning  calculated  to  confirm  and  strengthen  him  in 
the  ancient  faith. 

As  he  grew  in  years  he  exhibited  talents  of  a  high 
order,  and  such  as  rendered  liim  an  object  of  fear  and 
jealousy  to  the  ecclesiastical  side  of  the  government. 
And  it  was  not  long  before  he  felt  the  iron  hand  of 
persecution.  He  was  compelled,  by  the  time  he  liad 
attained  an  age  to  make  his  influence  felt,  to  flee  from 
his  native  land.  He  passed  a  restless  life  for  a  few 
years,  in  difierent  places  along  the  coasts  of  the  Medi- 
terranean, and  finally  journeyed  into  the  Holy  Land, 
At  Hebron,  the  sacred  depository  of  the  dust  of  his 
great  father  Abraham,  he  sat  down  to  rest.  But  he 
was  soon  again  upon  the  wing. 

By  what  turn  of  fortune  he  was  brought  into  the 
western  world,  we  know  not.  But  he  appears  to  have 
been  residing  at  Boston  for  a  year  or  two,  when  he 
fell  in  with  Mr.  Whiting.  Both  being  among  the  best 
Hebrew  scholars  in  the  country,  they  frequently  met 
in  the  higher  literary  circles.  And  Mr.  Guatolf  became 
so  chai-med  by  the  benignant  character  of  his  new 
acquaintance,  that  he  formed  an  attachment  strong  and 


272  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

enduring.  And  he  presently  came  to  esteem  it  one 
of  his  highest  privileges  to  be  near  tlie  godly  man, 
making  frequent  visits  to  Lynn,  and  occasionally  re- 
maining for  several  days.  He  was  a  rigid  adherent  to 
the  faith  of  his  fathers;  but  this  did  not  prevent  his 
perceiving  the  good  and  great  in  those  who  proudly 
claimed  to  be  among  the  chosen  of  the  New  Dispensa- 
tion. Indeed  he  seems  to  have  been  a  man  of  charita- 
ble and  confiding  disposition,  having  views  enlarged 
by  travel  and  association  with  mankind  under  different 
aspects  and  in  different  conditions. 

It  does  not  certainly  appear  at  what  time  Mr.  Gua- 
tolf  became  a  resident  of  Lynn,  but  it  must  have  been 
a  few  years  before  his  death.  It  is  not  wonderful  that 
Mr.  Whiting's  influence  over  him  should  have  eventu- 
ated, as  it  did,  in  his  conversion  to  the  christian  faith. 
By  degrees  his  adherence  to  the  old  religion  weakened, 
and  finally,  on  a  serene  Sabbath  morning,  in  early  sum- 
mer, the  venerable  pastor  had  the  blessed  privilege, 
before  a  great  congregation,  who  had  assembled  from 
far  and  near,  of  baptizing  this  son  of  Abraham  into  the 
religion  of  the  Nazarene.  It  was  a  marked  occasion, 
and  much  talked  of  among  the  good  people  through- 
out the  colonies. 

For  many  months  he  pursued  his  christian  walk 
in  the  most  exemplary  manner;  and  his  zeal  and  devo- 
tion ina}^  well  have  put  to  the  blush  many  who  had  till 
then  looked  upon  themselves  as  foremost  in  the  godly 
race.  He  visited  the  widow  and  fatherless  in  their 
affliction,  and  kept  himself  from  the  contaminations  of 
the  world.  The  fountains  of  grace  that  had  sprung  up 
within  him  seemed  pure  and  unfailing.  He  was  con- 
stant in  attendance  on  the  services  of  the  sanctuary, 
and   took  great  pains  to  lead  thither  others  who  had 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  273 

been  accustomed  to  range  the  woods  and  fields  on  the 
Sabbath.  And  possessing  well  trained  musical  jjowers 
he  delighted  to  join,  with  his  melodious  voice,  in  the 
sacred  song. 

But  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Whiting,  which  took  place 
in  1679,  a  cloud  seemed  to  fall  on  the  path  of  Mr. 
Guatolf.  He  deeply  mourned  the  loss  of  his  christian 
guide  and  dear  friend. 

Mr.  Shepard  succeeded  in  the  pastorate.  But  hia 
gloomy  views  of  truth  and  duty,  and  dismal  concep- 
tions concerning  the  heart  of  man,  his  course  and 
destiny,  were  any  thing  but  congenial  to  a  mind  con- 
structed like  that  of  Mr.  Guatolf  He  seemed  to  strug- 
gle  hard  to  retain  the  position  he  had  reached.  But 
it  was  soon  manifest,  to  himself  as  well  as  others,  that 
he  had  begun  to  lose  ground.  At  times  he  sought  the 
society  of  pious  people,  as  if  by  their  zeal  to  endeavor 
to  reanimate  his  own.  Again,  he  wandered  alone  into 
the  fields  as  if  seeking,  in  solitude,  relief  for  his  per- 
plexed and  burdened  mind. 

Some  two  3'ears  passed,  and  the  attachment  of  Mr. 
Guatolf  for  the  religion  into  which  he  had  been  bap- 
tized, was  feeble  and  still  declining.  And  another  year 
had  hardly  elapsed  when  the  light  had  gone  out.  He 
had  bidden  an  everlasting  adieu  to  all  his  christian 
hope  and  inspiration.  But  he  did  not  return  to  his 
old  JcAvisli  faith.  No,  he  wandered  into  the  frigid 
wilds  of  Atheism. 

About  tin's  time  the  withering  hand  of  consumption 
was  laid  upon  him.  He  was  soon  confined  to  his 
home,  and  then  to  his  bed.  And  it  was  a  sorrowful 
thing  to  the  good  people  who  came  to  visit  him,  to 
find  not  even  one  ray  of  light  glimmering  in  his  dark- 
ened soul.  And  so  ho  died;  died,  denying  not  onl^jr 
L*  18 


274  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

the  great  Pligh  Priest  of  the  christian  faith,  but  also 
the  great  Jehovah  whom  his  fathers  worshipped.  Of 
all  people  on  earth,  one  would  think,  an  educated  Jew 
would  be  the  last  to  die  an  infidel. 

But  there  lies  poor  Guatolf,  awaiting  that  resurrec- 
tion which  with  his  last  breath  he  sternly  rejected. 

A  few  3'ards  to  the  right  of  the  grave  of  the  unhappy 
Guatolf  were  laid  the  remains  of  Obadiah  Turner,  one 
of  the  most  excellent  men  who  labored  and  prayed 
for  the  success  of  the  Plantation,  while  it  was  yet  in 
infancy.  Time  has  long  since  smoothed  down  the 
swell  of  the  ground  that  marked  his  resting  place,  for 
he  has  occupied  that  lowly  bed  for  more  than  a  cen- 
tury and  three  quarters.  He  was  a  modest,  pious  and 
active  man ;  and  his  genial  mind  was  constantly,  as  it 
were,  dispensing  sunshine  upon  the  path  of  those  who 
journeyed  in  his  company.  All  tliese  creditable  things 
appear  from  the  few  records  which  yet  remain ;  but 
had  we  as  full  accounts  of  him  as  we  have  of  many 
of  liis  cotemporaries,  we  doubt  not  he  would  stand  in  a 
most  eminent  light.  In  the  earlier  part  of  our  volume 
this  meritorious  pioneer  has  been  prominently  in  view. 
And  we  need  now  only  add  that  as  he  laid  down  trust- 
ing in  a  merciful  Redeemer,  we  doubt  not  that  he  will 
arise  to  enjoy  the  recompense  of  a  good  and  faithful 
servant.  He  went  down  into  the  dark  valley,  clothed 
in  the  panoply  of  christian  faith,  and  with  that  holy 
hope  and  trust,  that  takes  away  the  sting  of  death. 

It  is  pleasant  to  endeavor  something  that  may  ex- 
tend the  memory  of  one  so  worthy,  as  there  are  enough 
to  sound  the  praises  of  the  merely  liberal  worldling. 
But  wliat  is  the  value  of  the  life  of  one  who  makes 
maramun  his  deity,  who  spends  his  days  in  gathering 


THE   OLD   BURYING   GROUND.  275 

that  whicli  will,  when  he  is  gone,  be  squandered  by 
prodigals  who  only  ridicule  him  for  his  groveling 
labor  and  care,  compared  with  the  life  of  one  like  him 
of  whom  we  speak? 

And  0,  how  immeasurably  more  to  be  desired  is  -.% 
departure  like  his,  than  a  departure  like  that  of  the 
wretched  Guatolf  There  they  lie,  almost  side  by 
side,  awaiting  that  resurrection  which  the  one  re- 
joiced in  contemplating  and  the  other  sneered  at  as 
nothing  but  an  idle  dream. 

Not  far  from  the  northeasterly  corner  of  the  enclo- 
sure, where  those  flowering  locust  shrubs  are  growing, 
was  anciently  a  reception  tomb;  that  is,  a  tomb  in 
which  bodies  were  deposited  until  such  times  as  the 
graves  which  were  finally  to  receive  them  could  more 
conveniently  be  digged.  Deep  snows  or  frosts  in 
winter,  and  various  causes  at  other  seasons  rendered 
this  a  desirable  arrangement.  There  was  no  fear  of 
body-snatchers  in  those  days;  nor  was  there  any  thing 
else  to  create  an  apprehension  that  the  sanctity  of  the 
grave  would  be  invaded. 

Tliis  sacred  depository,  the  receiving  tomb,  was 
never  very  strongly  fastened ;  indeed  it  was  closed 
up  by  merely  shutting  the  flap  doors,  which  fell  ob- 
liquely together,  in  the  manner  of  old  fashioned  cel- 
lar doors,  their  own  weight  making  them  sufl5ciently 
secure. 

It  was  on  the  afternoon  of  a  sultry  day  in  August, 
1697,  that  the  remains  of  Elizabeth  Melrose  were  de- 
posited in  this  tomb.  The  solemn  burial  service  of 
the  Episcopal  church  had  been  read  as  she  was  con- 
signed to  her  mother  earth,  for  she  belonged  to  one 
of  the  few  church  families  then  in  the  vicinity.     And 


276  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

her  funeral  had  been  attended  by  a  very  large  con- 
course, as  she  was  greatly  beloved  for  her  kind  heart, 
bright  mind  and  charming  person. 

As  tlie  pale  corpse  lay  exposed  at  the  entrance  of 
the  tomb,  the  red  light  of  the  dech'ning  sun  struggled 
through  the  foliage  as  if  striving  once  more  to  kiss  the 
blanched  cheek  and  warm  back  into  life  the  inanimate 
form.  The  coffin  lid  was  open;  and  as  the  mourners 
filed  silently  by,  to  take  a  last  look,  she  seemed  in  a 
sweet  repose  that  it  were  sacrilege  to  disturb.  The 
flowers  and  evergreen  twigs  that  adorned  her  fair 
brow  and  spotless  robe,  drank  in  the  tears  that  pro- 
fusely fell,  as  if  they  were  distillations  of  early  dew. 

The  sun  went  down  ;  the  coffin  was  closed  ;  and  she 
was  left  for  her  long  sleep. 

That  night  a  terrific  thunder  storm  swept  over  the 
settlement.  About  ten  o'clock  it  Avas  at  its  height. 
The  peals  Avere  appalling,  the  flashes  almost  continu- 
ous. Rain  descended  in  equatorial  violence,  and  the 
wind  filled  the  air  with  whirling  leaves  and  branches 
wrested  from  the  groaning  trees. 

It  was  at  about  that  hour  that  a  townsman  Avho  had 
been  caught  abroad  in  the  tempest,  was  indescribably 
terrified  by  suddenly  beholding,  amid  the  war  of  ele- 
ments, a  few  rods  before  him,  and  crossing  the  road 
that  ran  just  north  of  the  Burying  Ground,  a  thin, 
white  form.  It  apparently  moved  from  somewhere 
among  the  graves ;  but  whither  it  went,  his  fears  pre- 
vented his  observing.  He  doubted  not  that  he  had 
beheld  a  genuine  ghost,  and  his  hasty  step  was  instinc- 
tively turned  towards  the  minister's. 

At  nearly  the  same  time,  the  inmates  of  the  house  of 
Mr.  Downing,  who  were  the  nearest  neighbors,  were 
startled  by  a  noise  at  the  outer  door,  it  seeming  as  if 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  277 

some  one  had  pushed  or  fallen  against  i!.  And  tliey 
thought  that  they  likewise  heard  a  feeble  cry.  The 
good  master  of  the  household  instantly  threw  up  the 
ponderous  wooden  latch,  and  the  door  swung  wide 
open.  Upon  the  rough  stone  step,  drenched,  trem- 
bling and  speechless,  lay  a  fragile  form.  It  was  wrap- 
ped in  the  white  robe  of  the  grave,  and  faded  flowers 
drooped  upon  the  brow. 

The  good  wife  and  daughter  sprang  at  the  summons 
of  the  husband  and  father.  And  that  apparently  super- 
natural claimant  of  their  hospitality  was  soon  upon  a 
comfortable  bed,  the  recipient  of  every  restorative 
appliance  that  the  most  willing  hearts  and  ready  hands 
could  command. 

That  strange  visitant  was  Elizabeth  Melrose.  She 
had  been  prematurely  consigned  to  the  tomb,  but 
amid  the  war  of  elements  had  waked  and  made  her 
escape  from  its  grim  portals. 

She  appears  to  have  been  in  a  trance,  so  much  re- 
sembling death,  that  no  one  imagined  that  the  fatal 
arrow  had  not  sped.  Whether  the  tremendous  elec- 
tric discharges  had  the  effect  to  awaken  her,  or  whe- 
ther she  was  roused  by  some  other  means,  it  is  not 
easy  to  determine.  But  her  own  account  was  that 
she  suddenly  awoke,  as  from  a  sleep,  in  a  remarkable 
condition  of  physical  strength  and  self-possession.  She 
was  immediately  aware  of  her  situation.  But  having 
power  to  raise  the  lid  of  her  coffin,  which  had  not  been 
closely  shut,  and  which  was  constructed  like  most 
coffins  in  those  days,  with  the  lid  running  the  whole 
length,  she  had  little  difficulty  in  releasing  herself 
from  her  fearful  prison.  From  the  tomb  itself  she 
soon  escaped,  for  the  lightning  disclosed  the  passage, 
and  the  door  had  been  left  partially  unclosed,  having 


278  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

swung  against  a  stone  that  had  fallen  from  the  adjacent 
bank. 

Ono  can  hardly  conceive  that  a  slender  girl  should 
have  possessed  such  courage  and  strength  in  so  awfid 
a  situation.  But  it  affords  another  instance  of  the  ex- 
traordinary capabilities  of  both  the  human  mind  and 
body  in  an  extremity.  In  the  ordinary  walks  of  life 
a  realization  of  the  full  extent  of  our  own  powers 
is  very  seldom  forced  upon  us. 

There,  near  that  little  enclosed  spot  of  sacred  earth, 
where  rest  one  household's  dead,  were,  in  1G71,  depos- 
ited the  remains  of  Ephraim  Newhall,  a  man  of  com- 
manding virtues  and  an  excellent  teacher  of  youth. 
Diligently  did  he  labor  in  his  vocation,  and  unceasing 
were  his  endeavors  to  prepare  those  under  his  chai-ge 
not  only  for  success  in  this  life,  but  also  for  the  higher 
christian  walk,  which  surely  leads  to  life  eternal.  Pos- 
sessing such  means  as  by  economy  were  sufficient  to 
ensure  a  livelihood,  he  refused  all  compensation  for 
his  services.  He  said  that  what  he  had  was  given  for 
his  support,  while  laboring  for  the  good  of  those  around 
him,  and  he  should  be  guilty  of  the  heinous  sin  of 
covetousness  by  demanding  what  would  be  equivalent 
to  a  double  compensation.  He  had  received  a  clas- 
sical education,  and  had  a  mind  capable  of  appreciating 
the  beautiful  and  noble.  A  small  volume  of  touching 
poetry  emanated  from  his  pen,  all  sweetly  tinged  by 
pious  and  manly  sentiment. 

Would  that  such  exemplars  were  more  common. 

The  evening  of  tlie  twentieth  of  November,  1665, 
was  damp  and  comfortless  to  those  abroad.  The  trees 
were  almost  entirely  denuded  of  their  leaves,  the  few 


THE   OLD   BURYIXG   GROUND.  279 

that  remained  being  dry  and  shriveled,  and  seeming  to 
tremble  with  impatience  to  leave  their  parent  stems. 
And  now  and  th'en,  in  spite  of  every  filial  tie,  some 
would  leap  off  and  dance  away  upon  the  wind.  The 
darkness  set  in  early  and  was  very  great,  for  there 
was  no  moon  and  the  clouds  rolled  heavily  up  from 
the  north. 

It  was  perhaps  eight  o'clock,  when  four  stalwart 
men,  bearing  upon  their  shoulders  a  bier  whereon  was 
a  coffin,  without  pall  or  other  covering,  entered  the 
Burying  Ground,  preceded  by  the  lame  sexton,  carry- 
ing a  flaming  torch  of  pitch.  Half  a  dozen  townsmen 
followed.  And  the  discordant  music  of  a  battalion  of 
wild  geese  that  had  been  overtaken  by  the  night,  ac- 
companied that  strange  march. 

The  sexton  limped  along,  at  the  head  of  the  group, 
leading  the  w^ay  among  the  trees  toward  the  southerly 
wall :  and  there,  among  briars  and  rank  vegetation, 
paused.  Hanging  his  torch  upon  a  dead  branch,  Avith- 
out  uttering  a  word,  he  pointed  to  a  newly  digged 
grave.  The  bearers  lowered  the  burden  from  their 
shoulders  and  placed  it  on  the  ground  near  the  grave. 

For  a  few  moments  they  all  stood  still  as  if  each 
were  waiting  for  the  action  of  the  others.  The  wind 
sighed  mournfully,  and  the  trees  tossed  their  lank 
limbs  wildly  about,  like  giant  ghosts  at  their  revels. 
The  red  light  streamed  from  the  torch,  which  flared 
and  smoked,  imparting  an  unearthly  glow  to  the  format 
around,  and  throwing  a  spectral  radiance  upon  the  rude 
coffin,  the  yawning  grave,  the  gray  old  trunks,  and  far 
off  among  the  brambles  and  shivering  ferns. 

They  stood  in  silence.  No  sob  nor  other  mourning 
utterance  was  heard,  save  the  sighing  of  the  trees  and 
lonely  weeping  of  a  little  rill.     But  they  did  not  loiter 


280  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

long.  The  old  sexton  again  pointed  to  the  grave  and 
then  to  a  coil  of  rope  that  he  had  hung  near  his  torch. 
They  took  the  rope  and  by  it  lowered  the  coffin  to  its 
last  resting  place. 

Tlien  the  old  man  began  hastily  to  shovel  the  earth 
upon  it,  as  if  anxious  to  have  it  in  the  shortest  possible 
time  buried  from  the  sight  of  man.  Rapidly  the  earth 
rattled  down,  and  presently  the  grave  was  filled.  Then 
those  strong  men  trod  and  stamped  upon  it  till  all  was 
even  with  the  adjoining  surface.  Now  a  long  sharpened 
stake  was  brought  and  held  upright  upon  the  centre 
of  the  grave.  Then,  by  the  most  vigorous  arm,  a  huge 
sledge  was  swung,  and  as  the  sturdy  strokes  fell  upon 
its  head,  it  sank  rapidly.  Presently  a  dull  sound  was 
heard,  for  the  point  had  reached  the  coffin.  Another 
vigorous  blow,  and  there  was  a  stifled  crash ;  another 
and  another;  and  then  the  stake  head  had  sunk  even 
with  the  earth. 

The  work  was  done.  And  the  strange  company 
slowly  and  silently  retired,  preceded  again  by  the 
limping  sexton,  bearing  his  torch,  which  by  this  time 
began  to  burn  dimly  and  flicker. 

This  was  the  burial  of  Alden  Howland,  the  Suicide. 

It  is  the  holy  Sabbath  eve. 

The  breeze  has  lulled  away,  and  the  delicate  foliage 
of  early  summer  scarcely  stirs.  All  nature  seems  sink- 
ing into  repose,  as  the  sun  withdraws  his  last  beams 
from  spire  and  tree  top.  A  few  visitors  linger  in  this 
consecrated  spot,  scanning  the  records  on  the  stones. 
They  speak  only  in  whispers.  Here  are  children,  too. 
They  step  lightly  on  the  gi'aves,  many  as  short  as  they, 
and  their  shout  and  laugh  are  hushed.  And  see  that 
old  man,  with  gray  locks,  seated  upon  yon  cold  granite 


THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND.  281 

slab,  with  head  bowed  down  and  lips  moving,  as  if  he 
were  muttering  some  complaint  or  prayer.  He  seems 
like  one  who  has  outlived  kindred  and  friends  and 
come  hither  to  ponder  on  his  loneliness  and  perchance 
commune  with  their  spirits,  craving  intercession  for 
release  from  the  burden  of  a  cheerless  life. 

What  hour  or  place  more  meet  for  serious  thought? 

Around  us  lie  the  godly  men  and  women  of  olden 
time,  who  went  down  into  the  dark  valley  without 
fear,  protected  and  sustained  by  christian  faith  and 
hope.  Here  repose  the  noble  fathers  who  with  strong 
hands  and  generous  hearts  shielded  and  succored  the 
humble  and  weak.  Here  lies  the  soldier  who  bled  for 
our  liberties ;  the  glowing  soul  who  labored  and  per- 
severed, through  perils  and  wrongs,  that  he  might 
secure  the  rights  that  we  enjoy. 

Here  lie  the  learned,  the  honorable,  the  liberal.  And 
here,  too,  lie  the  young,  the  beautiful,  the  pure  ;  closed 
eyes  that  once  sparkled  with  joy ;  pale  lips  that  once 
curled  with  mirth  ;  cold  hands  that  once  clasped  other 
hands  with  friendship's  warmth ;  pulseless  hearts  that 
once  beat  with  the  inspirations  of  love  and  sunny  hope. 

Here  they  lie,  undisturbed  by  the  hum  of  business 
that  so  constantly  floats  around  them,  and  all  unenvi- 
ous  of  those  who  are  most  successful  in  the  race  for 
worldly  good.  Their  ears  are  closed  to  the  sound  of 
the  church-going  bell  or  the  jubilant  parade;  their 
eyes  to  tlie  gaudy  and  cunning  things  of  man's  device, 
the  lovely  and  magnificent  of  nature's  handiwork.  The 
cricket  chirps  upon  their  lowly  bed;  and  there  the 
busy  ant  constructs  her  nest,  and  the  spider  spreads 
his  web. 

But,  you  say,  there  is  a  darker  view.  And  so  there  is. 
Here  also  lie  the  drunkard,  the  libertine,  the   profane 


282  KO'iABLE  THINGS. 

scoffer,  the  surly  miser,  the  oppressor  of  tho  poor. 
And  it  is  true  that  the  grass  grows  as  freslil}-  and  tho 
flowers  bloom  as  sweetly  over  tliem  as  over  the  most 
worthy  who  lie  here.  And  wlien  the  snow}''  mantle 
of  winter  comes,  it  falls  white  and  pure  upon  all  ah'ke, 
But  there  is  beyond  this  another  truth,  wliich  all  along 
we  have  endeavored  to  keep  in  view;  a  truth  that 
should  startle  eveiy  unawakened  heart.  And  that 
truth  is,  that  from  all  these  graves  the  dead  ihust 
come  forth.  Yes,  on  that  great  day  of  everlasting 
doom,  this  motley  host  must  rise,  and  wheel  into  tho 
judgment  court.  And  then  and  there,  in  the  vivid 
light  that  illuminates  the  most  secret  recess  of  every 
heart,  will  the  tpie  condition  of  each  soul  appear. 
Then  how  will  men's  judgments  of  their  fellow  men  be 
changed.  And  how  forcibly  shall  we  all  perceive  the 
vanity  of  the  life  that  has  closed,  the  reality  of  that 
which  is  opening. 


VmV   ON   LONG   KEACII. 


"1 


ItM 


lin 


^^MM-" 


OLD    TUNNEL    MEETING    HOUSE. 
Military  Parade.     Page  312. 


THE    OLD    TUNNEL 
MEETINa    HOXJSIi:. 

** Hail,  honored  fane!     Though  not  in  tbeo 

Were  gorgeous  nave  and  aisle  ; 
Yet  was  thy  ruiJe  simplicity 

More  loved  th.in  marble  pile." 

FOTi  pomething  like  a  century  and  a  half  immediately 
preceding  the  unpretentious  year  1827,  observant  trav- 
elers who  journeyed  from  the  metropolis  of  New  Eng- 
land by  the  great  eastern  road,  could  not  have  failed 
to  notice,  on  passing  through  the  westerly  part  of 
Lynn,  a  large,  quaint  structure,  standing  conspicuously 
on  the  open  Common.  On  making  inquiry,  they  would 
have  been  informed  that  this  was  the  Old  Tunnel 
Meeting  House.  The  term  ''  old "  being  used  as  a 
sort  of  jolly  adjective  rather  than  as  indicative  of  age. 

This  memorable  edifice  was  erected  in  1682.  And 
for  generations  it  remained  a  gathering  place  of  the 
most  unalloyed  of  the  puritanical  stamp. 

To  modern  eyes  it  would  appear  a  strange  specimen 
of  architecture  both  within  and  without.  It  was  square 
upon  the  ground,  and  the  roof  ran  up  in  the  centre, 
surmounted  by  a  belfry,  much  like  an  inverted  tunnel; 
and  hence  the  classic  sobriquet  by  which  it  was  for 
Buch  a  long  period  distinguished. 

The  Old  Tunnel  Dedication  Day,  was,  of  course, 
an  occasion  of  great  parade.     The  weather  was  propi- 

(283) 


284  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

tious  and  everything  assumed  a  holiday  trim.  A  large 
number  of  the  clergy  were  present,  and  lay  delegates 
from  far  and  near. 

There  was  the  Reverend  John  Rogers,  of  Ipswich, 
a  descendant  of  the  Smithfield  martyr,  whose  head, 
though  at  that  time  he  was  not  much  above  fifty,  was 
adorned  with  silver  locks,  and  whose  bearing  was  lofty 
and  austere.  He  was  unquestionably  a  man  of  learn- 
ing, for  the  next  j^ear  he  was  installed  president  of 
Harvard  College,  though  his  death  occurring  immedi- 
ately after,  no  opportunity  was  afforded  for  his  friends 
to  relate  pleasant  fictions  or  his  enemies  to  relate  un- 
pleasant truths  about  him  in  his  new  sphere. 

Then  there  was  the  Reverend  Mr.  Richardson  of 
Newbury,  another  of  the  learned  and  sedate  old  puri- 
tanical preachers. 

There,  likewise,  was  the  Reverend  Joseph  Gerrish, 
of  Wenham,  the  "curious,  orthodox  and  profound" 
divine,  as  well  as  "curious,  orthodox  and  profound" 
lover  of  good  living;  his  countenance  beaming  with 
intelligence  and  quiet  humor.  The  discriminating  John 
Dunton  says  in  his  journal,  that  he  was  "devout  without 
moroseness  or  starts  of  holy  frenzy  and  enthusiasm," 
and  "  primitive  without  the  occasional  colors  of  Avhi- 
ning  or  cant."  And  he  gratefully  adds  that  when  he 
called  on  Mr.  Gerrish  he  was  entertained  with  a  noble 
dinner.  A  judicious  offering  to  the  stomach  is  wonder- 
fully effective  in  securing  a  good  opinion.  And  it  is 
worthy  of  remark  that  when  any  one  has  a  Aivor  to  ask 
his  best  time  to  make  application  is  when  the  one  from 
whoYn  he  would  receive  it  has  lately  risen  from  a  fat 
table.  Hunger  is  one  of  the  worst  advocates  a  man  can 
possibly  have.  The  animal  condition  is  a  much  better 
index  than  most  people  realise.     There  is  little  to  be 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       285 

feared  even  from  a  tiger  if  his  stomach  is  in  a  proper 
state. 

It  is,  of  course,  unnecessary  to  mention  that  Mr. 
Shepard,  the  minister  of  the  parish,  was  present,  proud 
of  his  new  house  and  of  the  goodly  company  assem- 
bled to  do  honor  to  its  dedication.  But  though  he 
dispensed  with  the  outer  layer  of  his  stern  and  frigid 
habit  he  was  careful  by  no  means  to  compromise  his 
dignity.  Has  not  the  reader  observed,  that  of  all  peo. 
pie  on  earth,  a  minister  with  a  new  meeting  house  is 
the  most  proud?  We  once  alluded  to  this  curious 
fact,  in  conversation  with  a  clerical  friend.  He  admit- 
ted it,  but  claimed  that  the  pride  was  felt  for  the  hon- 
or done  to  the  Lord.  This  was  satisfactory,  and  led 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  fair  lady,  when  she  proudly 
flaunts  her  silks,  may  be  merely  intending  honor  to  the 
silk-worm. 

The  dedication  services  occupied  a  good  portion  of 
the  day,  and  were  conducted  in  a  manner  harmonious 
and  profitable.  The  singers  performed  their  onerous 
duty  in  a  temper  remarkably  free  from  discontent  and 
bickering,  which  was  perhaps  in  a  measure  attributa- 
ble to  the  soothing  influence  of  the  German  viol,  which, 
so  far  as  our  knowledge  extends,  was  then,  for  the  first 
time,  introduced  into  a  house  of  worship,  in  the  place. 

But  the  Dedication  Dinner  was  declared  to  be  the 
crowning  glory  of  the  day.  And  as  we  have  at  hand 
a  long  letter,  written  by  one  who  was  present,  giving, 
in  graphic  terras,  an  account  of  the  aff'air,  we  cannot 
do  better  than  avail  ourselves  of  it,  and  transcribe  as 
follows : 

"  Y"  Deddication  Dinner  was  had  in  y"  great  barne 
of  M""  Hoode,  which  by  reason  of  its  goodly  size  was 
deemed  y°  most  fit  place.     It  was  neatly  adorned  with 


28G  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

green  bows  &  otlier  hangings  &  made  veiT  faire  to 
look  upon,  y'^  wreaths  being  mostly  wrought  by  y" 
young  folk,  they  meeting  together,  both  nuiids  and 
young  men  and  having  a  meriy  time  in  doing  y^  pleas- 
ant Avorkc.  Y°  rough  stalls  &  unhewed  posts  being 
gayly  begirt,  and  all  y®  corners  &  cubbies  being  clean 
swept  and  well  aired,  it  truly  did  appear  a  meet  ban- 
quetting  hall.  Y*^  scaffoldes  too,  from  which  y"  pro- 
vinder  had  been  removed,  were  swept  clean  as  broome 
could  make  them.  And  they  too  had  comely  decora- 
tions. 

"  Some  seats  were  put  up  on  y''  scaffoldes,  whereon 
might  sit  such  of  y^  antient  women  as  would  see  y® 
doings;  also  maids  and  children.  And  thereon  I  did 
descr}^,  on  looking  up,  as  I  sat  at  meate,  some  dames 
with  knitting  worke;  showing  good  ensample  for  in- 
dustry to  y''  3'ounger  ones  about  them.  But  most  that 
I  did  see  thereon  were  maidens  &  children,  being  all 
in  their  best  attire  and  with  smiling  faces.  Y^  white 
capps  of  y''  old  folk,  looked  neat  and  tidy  and  y®  hair 
of  y*^  maids  being  some  in  braides  and  some  in  curls, 
was  glossy  &  beautyful  to  look  upon. 

c(  Y«  gieat  floor  was  all  held  ibr  y®  company  which 
was  to  partake  of  y^  feast  of  fat  things,  none  others 
being  admitted  there  save  them  that  were  to  wait 
upon  y"^  same.  Y®  kine  that  were  wont  to  be  there, 
were  forcred  to  keep  holiday  in  y®  field.  And  y^  fowles, 
save  such  as  were  kept  for  service  on  y*^  table,  were 
likewise  made  to  pass  y^  time  without,  tlio  they  would 
sometimes  make  endeavor  to  get  back  to  roost  upon 
y®  beam  that  ran  above  y'^  table;  which  was  not  per- 
mitted seeing  what  harm  might  come  to  them  that  sat 
beneath. 

"But  while  y*^  company  were  busy  with  their  knives 


THE   OLD    TUNNEL    MEETING    HOUSE.  287 

and  forks,  a  lusty  one  did  steal  his  way  to  y^  beam, 
where,  mayhap,  he  might  have  perched  till  y°  least  was 
thro  had  it  not  happened  in  this  wise:  A  savory  dish 
had  just  been  pnt  smoking  upon  y**  table,  and  M''  Ro- 
gers was  helping  himself  therefrom  with  y*^  great  horn 
spoon,  when  lo,  y'^  whole  was  spoiled  b}'  y^  unmannerly 
doing  of  y"  fowl  above,  who  must  needs  just  then 
scratch  down  an  aboundance  of  dirty  litter,  making  y® 
soup  look  well  peppered.  Some  did  much  laugh  at 
y^  comical  turn.  And  thereupon  y*"  cock  must  needs 
crow  and  look  down  upon  us  seemingly  well  pleased 
with  his  dirty  doing. 

"  M""  Shepard's  face  did  turn  very  red;  and  Avithout 
speaking  he  catched  up  an  apple  and  hurled  it  at  y^ 
misbehaving  bird.  But  he  thereby  made  y'^  bad  matter 
worse,  for  y**  fruit  being  well  aimed,  it  hit  y*^  legs  of 
y°  fowl  and  brought  him  fioundeiing  and  flapping  right 
down  upon  y"^  table,  scattering  gravy,  sauce,  &  divers 
other  unjlean  things  upon  our  garments  and  in  our 
faces.  But  tho  this  did  not  well  please  some,  yet  with 
most  it  was  a  happening  that  made  great  merryment. 

"Dainty  meats  were  on  y°  table  in  great  plent}',  as 
bear  stake,  deer  meat,  rabbit  &  fowle  both  wilde  and 
from  y°  barn  yard.  Luscious  puddings  we  likewise 
bad  in  aboundance,  mostly  apple  and  berry,  but  some 
of  coin  meal,  with  small  bits  of  sewet  baked  therein; 
also  pyes  &  tarts.  And  we  had  some  pleasant  fruits, 
as  apples,  nuts  &  wild  grapes.  And  to  crown  all,  we 
had  plenty  of  good  cydar  &  y"  ins|;)iring  Barbadoes 
drink. 

"  M"^  Shepard  and  most  of  y"  ministers  were  grave  & 
prudent  at  table,  discoursing  much  uj)on  y*^  great  points 
of  y®  deddication  sermon,  &  in  silence  labouiing  upon 
y®  food  before  them.     But  I  will  not  risque  to  say  on 


1. 


288  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

which  they  dv7elt  with  most  relish,  j^  discourse  or 
dinner.  Most  of  y^  young  members  of  y"'  Council  & 
Committee  would  fain  make  a  jolly  time  of  it. 

"  jVP  Gerrislijy*^  Wenham  minister,  tho  prudent  iv  his 
meats  &  drinks,  was  yet  in  right  meriy  mood.  And 
he  did  once  grievously  scandalize  M''  Shepard,  who,  on 
suddenly  looking  up  from  his  dish,  did  spy  him,  as  he 
thot  winking  in  an  unbecoming  way  to  one  of  y^  pretty 
damsels  on  y^  scafFolde.  And  thereupon  bidding  y® 
godly  M""  Rogers  to  labor  with  him  aside  for  his  misbe- 
haviour, it  turned  out  that  y°  winking  was  occasioned 
by  some  of  y''  hay  seeds  that  were  blowing  about, 
lodging  in  his  eye ;  whereat  M""  Shepard  felt  greatly 
releaved. 

"  Y^  aged  Obadiah  Turner  sat  next  to  M""  Gerrish  at 
table,  he  being  one  of  y®  building  committee,  &  much 
thot  of  for  his  man}^  good  doings  in  y°  space  of  his 
long  life.  Being  some  deaf,  he  must  fain  keep  his 
gray  head  curiously  bobbing  round,  lest  he  should 
lose  some  of  the  good  sayings  which  were  uttered  by 
y^  company.  He  was  temperate  in  his  drinks  &  in  hia 
meats,  but  brim  full  of  merry  thots.  Ho  was  too 
old,  he  said,  to  make  much  discourse,  or  he  would 
relate  many  wonderful  things  of  y°  antient  days  of  y* 
Plantation,  y'=  Collony,  y*'  old  people  here  &  of  our 
blessed  church.  And  one  asking  him  how  it  came 
about  that  he  so  well  remembered  so  many  curious 
things  which  every  body  declared  he  did,  of  y®  old 
times,  he  said  that  for  many  years,  lie  every  day  writ 
down  all  wonderful  things  that  happened,  &  had  now 
in  his  front  room  desk,  enow  records  to  make  a  faire 
booke. 

"  Master  Rogers  &  Master  Shepard  held  some  talk 
in  Latin,  a  part  whereof  seemed  to  concern  Timothy 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       289 

Alden,  wlio  sat  about  y°  middle  of  y''  table.  He  was  a 
man  of  middle  age,  and  of  y^  Maiden  church.  He  had 
not  been  soe  prudent  in  using  y^  good  things  as  others 
had.  I  did  discern  many  spots  of  gravy  and  blotches 
of  sauce  upon  his  garments  which  I  did  not  think  y® 
fowle  spattered  there.  His  speach  grew  thick  &  his 
eyes  heavy,  and  y"  company  were  much  pained  to  hear 
him  of  a  sudden  break  out  with  parts  of  a  mawdlin 
song.  But  presently  one  inviting  him  to  walk  out  and 
view  Goodman  Boardman  his  wonderful  calfe,  he  did 
go.  And  as  they  walked  adown  y°  lane,  arm  in  arm, 
we  did  hear  parts  of  y®  song,  brot  back  on  y"  wind, 
growing  less  &  less  as  y®  distance  grew. 

*'  Y^  new  Meeting  House  was  much  discoursed  upon 
at  y**  table.  And  most  thot  it  as  comely  a  house  of 
worship  as  can  be  found  in  y°  whole  Collony,  save  only 
three  or  four. 

"M*"  Richardson,  y''  Newberry  minister,  in  a  very  loud 
voice  &  stately  mien,  proclaimed  that  tho  y**  house  was 
a  noble  temple,  it  yet  was  but  a  fit  casket  for  y°  godly 
jewel  of  Lynn  to  shine  in.  Whereupon  a  most  lusty 
crow  was  set  up  by  y°  same  old  cock  that  had  been  on 
y®  beam.  He  now  appeared  poised  on  y®  upper  win- 
dow sill  looking  down  upon  us  with  great  seeming  sau- 
ciness.  Y°  crow,  being  in  approval,  as  it  appeared,  of 
y°  pleasant  speach  of  M""  Richardson,  did  greatly  amuse 
y  whole  company.  They  shouted  &  clapped  their 
hands  in  great  giea. 

"And  when  y°  uproare  about  y**  old  rooster  was 
ended,  M'"  Shepard  arose  and  with  profound  obeisance 
to  right  and  left,  in  great  modesty  sayd  that  y*'  lustre 
of  y"  jewel,  he  feared,  would  be  much  dimmed  in  y" 
brighter  glow  of  some  other  that  might  from  time  to 
time  shine  in  y'^  same  casket,  and  he  looked  smilingly 
M  »  19 


290  KOTABLE   THINGS. 

on  M""  Roger:',  as  if  in  him  beholding  such  a  jewel. 
And  thereupon  y*^  cock  crew  again,  &  flapping  his 
wings  put  astir  much  dust  and  litter,  which  lell  upoft 
y®  table.  Many  of  y^  company  now  hurled  apples  at 
y®  misbehtiveing  fowle,  but  they  not  being  good  of  aim, 
only  two  came  within  half  a  score  of  inches  of  his 
perch.  He  then  stretched  out  his  neck,  and  looking 
down  upon  us,  made  a  strange  whining  noise,  as  if  he 
would  deiide  us,  as  well  as  he  could  with  his  unman- 
ageable voyce,  and  flew  out  upon  y®  ground,  seemingly 
in  great  disgust. 

"  M"^  Gerrish  was  in  such  merry  mood  that  he  kept 
y°  end  of  y®  table  whereby  he  sat  in  right  jovial 
humour.  Some  did  loudly  laugh  &  clap  their  hands. 
But  in  y*^  middest  of  y®  merryment,  a  strange  disaster 
did  happen  unto  him.  Not  haveing  his  thots  about 
him,  he  endeavoured  y°  dangerous  peiforniance  of 
gaping  &  laughing  at  y*'  same  time,  which  he  must  now 
feel  is  not  so  easy  or  safe  a  thing.  In  doing  this,  bo 
set  his  jaws  open  in  such  wise  that  it  was  beyond  all 
his  power  to  bring  them  together  again.  His  agonie 
was  xevy  great,  and  his  joylul  laugh  soon  turned  to 
grievous  groaning.  Y*'  women  on  y*^  scaffoldes  became 
much  distressed  for  him.  And  y^  pretty  daughter  of 
my  neighbour  John  Armitage,  leaning  over  for  to  look 
did  lose  her  poise,  &  would  have  broke  her  bones  by 
falling  to  y°  floor,  had  not  y°  strong  arms  of  one  by 
catched  her. 

"We  did  our  utmost  to  stay  y*'  anguish  of  M""  Ger- 
rish, but  could  make  out  little  till  M""  Rogers,  who 
knoweth  somewhat  of  anatomy,  did  bid  y®  sufferer  to 
sit  down  on  y®  floor;  which  being  done  M"^  Rogers 
took  y®  head  atween  his  legs,  turning  y*^  face  as  much 
upward  as  possible,  and  then  gave  a  powerful  blow  & 


THE  OLD  TDNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       291 

'«ud(Ien  press  which  brot  y<*  jiws  again  into  •working 
order.  Bat  Master  Gerrish  did  not  gape  or  laugh 
much  more,  on  that  occasion,  you  may  be  surej  nei- 
ther did  he  talk  miicli,  for  that  matter. 

"No  other  weighty  mishap  occurred,  save  that  one 
of  y®  Salem  delegates,  in  boastfully  essaying  to  crack 
a  walnut  atween  his  teeth,  did  crack  instead  of  y*  nut 
a  most  useful  double  tooth,  &  was  thereliy  forced  to 
appear  at  y"  evening  meeting  with  a  bandaged  face. 

"  There  was  much  sound  discourse  at  table  on  y" 
afifairs  of  our  church  and  y"'  churches  about  us;  of 
their  difficultys  &  tryals;  how  they  become  from  time 
to  lime  exercised  &  distracted  by  wolves  getting  in 
amongst  y®  flocks,  so  many  constantly  comeing  hero 
from  abroad,  of  unsound  doctrine  &  ungodly  lives. 
Such,  comeing  and  preaching  their  pcstigious  doc- 
trines, sliock  all  godly  people  and  make  nothing  but 
mischief  amongst  us.  And  we  greatly  fear  that  in 
years  to  come  y*^  wicked  seeds  that  they  sowe  may 
spring  up,  and  if  not  choak  to  deadly  effect,  yet  greatly 
obstruct  y"  growth  of  true  religion  in  y^  land.  Much 
to  this  purpose  was  talked  over  by  y^  ministers  and 
delegates  present. 

"Obadiah  Turner  did  make  bold  to  reply  that  all 
goodness  was  not  confined  to  y^  old  ways.  In  some 
new  things  there  might  be  truth  and  comfort,  and  for 
bis  part,  he  was  moved  to  look  into  now  pretentions 
before  proclaiming  them  to  be  of  }'"  Devil,  &  see  if 
there  be  not  some  good  that  might  be  picked  out ; 
Baying  that  he  did  not  belcavo  that  y'^  Devil  ever  yet 
had  entire  possession  of  a  human  heart;  &  saying,  too, 
that  there  be  them  in  our  midst  who  would  fain  do 
God's  work  in  judging  of  y''  hearts  of  men  ;  which  ho 
did  not  deem  meet.     And  he  asked  where  our  blessed 


292  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

Christianity  would  have  been  had  every  body  keeped 
their  skirts  clear  of  it  while  it  was  a  new  thing.  Some 
wondered  at  heareing  y^  good  old  man  talk  in  that 
wise ;  but  all  listened  with  good  heed  to  his  short 
speech. 

"  Much  likewise  was  said  about  y"^  affairs  of  y^  Collo- 
ny,  &  what  they  across  y''  water  may  be  doing  for  and 
against  us.  It  is  undenyable  that  we  have  reason  to 
fear  that  matters  will  not  long  go  so  smoothely  with 
us  as  they  have  gone,  for  we  have  learned  that  divers 
scandalous  sayings  have  been  uttered  against  us  to  ears 
in  high  places.  King  Charles  we  do  not  think  loves 
us  overmuch,  tho  we  be  loyal  subjects,  and  in  y®  late 
terrible  war  did  our  utmost  to  extend  &  make  firm  and 
sure  his  rule  in  these  parts. 

"And  on  these  political  matters  M""  Turner  did  like- 
wise have  a  short  say,  warmly  affirming  that  y*^  people 
of  this  goodly  land  will  one  day  become  a  mighty 
people  &  will  then  pay  back  y®  wrongs  committed  on 
their  weakness.  Y"  whole  table  clapped  heartily  at 
his  sayings.  And  one  whom  modesty  would  have  me 
hold  nameless  here,  called  on  all  present  to  drink  to 
y®  health  and  long  life  of  Master  Turner.  It  was  done 
with  much  good  will,  by  some  in  y^  use  of  cyder,  and 
by  others  in  y®  use  of  stronger  drink.  Whereupon 
M""  Turner  replied,  that  as  to  y^  long  life  he  had  al- 
ready had  that,  &  as  to  y*'  health,  God  had  much  blessed 
him  thro  y^many  3'ears  that  he  had  lived,  and  he  hoped 
that  for  y"  little  part  remaining,  no  heavy  pains  were 
in  store  for  him. 

''Master  Gerrish  did  move  to  much  laughter  by  a 
short  speach,  of  great  Avit,  about  women  folk.  This 
was  before  y''  happening  of  y'^  terrible  accident  to  his 
jaws.     And  it  was  greatly  relished  by  y"  fairc  ones  on 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       293 

y^  scaffoldes  as  well  as  by  us  below.  And  I  did  behold 
many  sparkling  eyes  peeping  over  &  many  thanks  de- 
scending upon  liis  head  in  y^  shape  of  bits  of  ever- 
green. 

"  Master  Shepard  would  fain  give  us  some  discourse 
in  Latin.  But  so  many  not  knowing 'that  tongue  it 
made  little  stir,  tho  y^  Doctor  from  Cambridge  took  it 
upon  him  to  talk  much  of  it,  saying  that  it  was  very 
brave  and  learned. 

"  Some  songs  were  sung,  mostly  concearning  old 
Englande  and  things  there ;  none  of  y'^  songs  being 
unseemly  in  such  a  company  &  on  such  an  occasion. 
Divers  psalms  and  liymns  were  likewise  sung,  y'^  wo- 
men upon  y°  scaffoldes  joining  in  with  us  below. 

"Most  of  y^  company  were  at  times  much  exercised 
with  laughter,  which  hath  been  deemed  healthful.  And 
so  I  think  it  is,  in  moderation.  But  too  much  is  weak- 
ening as  hath  been  sayd ;  the  which  seemeth  true,  for 
one  or  two  of  y^  lay  bretheren  on  this  occasion,  who 
did  laugh  most  roisterly,  became  so  weakened  that 
tlieir  heads  must  needs  loll  from  side  to  side  in  great 
looseness. 

"We  also  had  riddles  and  blind  sayings  put  for  to 
guess  out,  &  many  other  cleaver  things  to  make  y® 
time  pass  pleasantly. 

"  And  on  y®  whole  we  did  find  much  profit  as  well  as 
pastime  in  y^  occasion,  being  right  well  pleased  with 
what  our  ears  did  hear  and  our  appetites  did  find.  So 
noble  and  savoury  a  banquet  was  never  before  spread 
in  this  now  famous  town.  So  said  Master  Turner;  & 
BO  all  said. 

"  God  be  praised." 

And  so  ends  the  contemporaneous  account  of  the 
great  Dedication  Dinner.     As  the  shades  of  evening 


294  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

gatUovod  tlie  friends  from  abroad  retired  as  guests  to 
th&  liospitable  Iiomes  of  the  villagers.  In  many  fami- 
lies, the  capacious  brick  oven  had  been  put  in  requisi- 
tion, and  the  suppers  that  smoked  upon  the  tables  on 
that  evening-,  might  well  induce  those  who  had  been 
partalcers  of  th«  public  feast,  to  mourn  for  their  lost 
appetites. 

An  evening  meeting  was  held  at  the  new  meeting 
house,  which  was  attended  by  the  clergy  and  many 
otlier  grave  people.  Mr.  Gerrish  preached  one  of  his 
most  luminous  doctrinal  discourses.  And  from  his 
solemn  manner  one  might  have  imagined  th;it  not  a 
merry  word  had  passed  his  lips  nor  a  smile  illuminated 
his  countenance  in  a  month's  time.  There  was  still  a 
little  stiffness  in  his  jaws,  but  not  sufficient  to  prevent 
bis  usual  clearness  of  utterance. 

The  young  folk  assembled  at  a  dedication  ball  in 
the  little  hall  over  the  room  which  was  formerly  occu- 
pied as  the  store  of  Dexter  and  Laigliton.  Some  of 
the  delegates  and  others  from  abroad  had  brought 
their  duighters,  sisters  and  sweethearts.  And  what 
entertainment  could  be  more  agreeable  to  these,  than 
a  moderate  and  modest  indulgence  in  the  fiiscinating 
mazes  of  the  dance  ?  They  had  a  merry  time ;  and 
as  it  afterward  appeared  such  impressions  v/ere  made 
as.  finally  resulted  in  the  transplanting  into  Lynn  of 
two  or  three  of  the  most  beautiful  flowers  that  the 
neighboring  settlements  afforded.  And  the  fi;;\y  com- 
pany were  not  at  all  overawed  nor  surprised  on  be- 
holding, after  the  services  at  the  meeting  house  were 
over,  half  a  score  or  more  of  sober  visaged  men  and 
women  enter  and  seat  themselves  on  the  bench  that 
ran  along  the  side  of  the  hall,  and  remain,  complacently 
gazing  on  the  happy  scene,  till  the  festivities  closed. 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       295 

One  may  be  pardoned  for  feeling  a  little  amused  at 
gome  of  the  inconsistences  exhibited  in  the  foregoing 
details.  But  they  are  characteristic  of  human  nature. 
It  may  perhaps  be  said  that  the  old  settlers  in  some 
respects  set  their  standard  for  the  regulation  of  con- 
duct higher  than  human  nature  Avould  bear;  and  in 
their  attempts  to  climb  the  height,  became  subject  to 
man}'  slips  and  backward  slides.  Numerous  instances 
might  be  referred  to  in  which  there  certainly  was  no 
marked  unity  between  their  precepts  and  practices. 

To  speak  again  of  dancing:  they  denounced  that  as 
one  of  the  Devil's  most  cunning  traps  by  which  to 
ensnare  the  youthful  soul;  but  yet  there  is  abundant 
evidence  that  they  regarded  the  dedication  or  ordina- 
tion ball  as  a  proper  adjunct.  Perhaps  the  most  godly 
people  attended,  and  so  made  it  what  it  ought  to  be; 
thus  taking  a  different  course  from  some  modern  good 
people  who  never  try  to  improve  the  world  by  exam- 
ple, but  delight  to  stand  afar  off  and  fire  gospel  blun- 
derbusses that  echo  about  men's  ears,  attract  attention 
and  may  once  in  a  while  damage  some  redout  of  the 
evil  one. 

Those  worthy  fathers  had  fled  from  religious  perse- 
cution and  the  slavery  of  the  old  world ;  but  once  in 
power  here,  they  deemed  it  meet  to  deny  to  those  Avho 
could  not  conscientiously  come  into  full  communion 
with  them  some  of  the  dearest  rights  of  citizenship. 
And  while  preaching  temperance  in  all  things  and  lib- 
erty and  equality  for  all  men  there  appear  to  have 
been  those  among  them  who  Avere  without  a  protest 
shipping  Indian  prisoners  of  war  to  Barbadoes,  to  be 
sold  into  slavery  for  return  cargoes  of  rum.  And  the 
Old  Tunnel  itself  had  its  "  nigger  pew,"  as  it  was  pop- 
ularly called  —  a  close  board  erection,  high  up  from 


296  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

the  gallery,  in  the  extreme  northeast  corner  of  the 
house.  And  there  the  poor  cufTys  had  to  sit,  shut  up 
like  lepers,  unseeing  and  unseen,  while  their  grave 
masters  —  for  there  was  negro  slavery  in  the  Bay 
State  in  those  days  —  sat  in  the  airy  courts  below, 
listening  to  the  glorious  gospel  of  liberty  and  equality. 

The  sin  of  incontinence  was,  by  these  pious  men, 
deemed  of  the  blackest  dye;  but  the  agreeable  custom 
of ''■  bundHng"  by  no  means  shocked  them;  and  the 
blooming  fruits  of  the  institution  who  so  frequently 
appeared  at  the  baptismal  font,  even  in  the  Old  Tunnel, 
attested  to  its  popularity. 

But  some  might  call  such  apparent  inconsistences 
by  another  name.  Human  nature  is  perverse  and 
inclined  to  rebel  against  rigid  exaction.  The  strict- 
ness demanded  may  have  led  some  to  revolt,  and 
recede  towards  the  opposite  extreme;  forming,  as  it 
were,  a  separate  party  in  the  midst  of  another.  And 
each  party  may  have  pursued  a  course  consistent  with 
itself.  This,  however,  is  simply  saying,  in  another 
way,  that  the  righteous  ma}'  have  been  consistent  in 
their  pretentions  and  the  unrighteous  in  theirs.  And 
no  one  will  dispute  that.  But  the  fact  still  remains 
that  many  of  the  good  settlers  entertained  the  antag- 
onisms in  their  own  individual  breasts. 

And  now,  in  drawing  our  volume  to  a  close,  we 
propose  introducing  a  few  sketches  of  the  jewels 
that  shone  in  the  Old  Tunnel  during  its  earlier  days, 
though  some  of  the  brighter  ones,  Avho  have  shed  their 
lustre  in  other  parts  of  our  volume,  will  not  be  recalled. 
And  these  sketches  we  shall  intersperse  with  occa- 
bional  brief  details  of  occurrences  that  seem  worthy 
of  notice.     As  before  remarked,  however,  it  is  not  a 


THE   OLD    TUNNEL    MEETING    HOUSE.  297 

pai't  of  our  plan  to  treat  of  persons  or  events  pertain- 
ing to  times  subsequent  to  1699,  excepting  in  cases 
where  it  may  appear  incidentally  necessary. 

We  have  a  disposition  to  present  the  bright  side  of 
things.  Though  in  our  progress  we  have  not  shrunk 
from  presenting  the  dark  side  when  duty  seemed  to 
require.  There  is  an  old  adage  that  it  is  better  to 
rejoice  than  weep.  And  Providence  has  ordered  that 
in  the  world  there  shall  be  much  more  to  excite  pleasu- 
rable than  sad  sensations;  thus  plainly  indicating  that 
the  former  are  more  approved  than  the  latter.  And 
we  have  endeavored,  under  these  views,  to  deliver  our- 
selves in  an  agreeable  way.  So  if  the  reader  should 
in  our  pages  discover  anything  that  seems  like  plea- 
santry he  will  please  consider  it  as  dictated  by  princi- 
ple, rather  than  as  a  spontaneous  breach  of  that  gravity 
which  nature  has  always  striven  to  force  upon  us. 

We  commenced  our  task  in  an  agreeable  frame  of 
mind,  induced  by  the  modest  determination  to  be  sat- 
isfied if  b}'  this  Book  we  should  be  so  fortunate  as  to 
contribute  sufficient  to  sweeten  what  would  equal  one 
life  time.  And  now  let  us  see  what  sort  of  a  calcula- 
tion may  reasonably  be  made. 

In  every  year  of  one's  life  there  will  ordinarily  be 
three  hundred  and  fifty  days,  during  each  of  which 
eight  hours  will  be  spared  from  sleep  and  other  neces- 
sary and  recreative  demands.  And  hence  there  will 
be  in  every  3'ear  twenty  eight  hundred  hours  thus 
spared.  And  in  sixty  years,  which  are  quite  as  many 
as  can  be  calculated  on  aside  from  those  of  infancy 
and  sickness,  there  will  be  one  hundred  and  sixty  eight 
thousand  hours  to  be  provided  for.  Now  we  trust 
that  every  person  who  reads  this  volume  will  find  ten 
hours  of  his  precious  life  pleasantly  and  not  unprofita- 


"ZaS  KOTABLE:  THINGS. 

biy  occupied.  And  in  the  same  raodest  way  we  trust 
that  seventeen  thousand  individuals  will  read  the  vol- 
ume. Not  tliat  there  will  be  that  number  of  copies 
published,  at  least  of"  the  first  edition;  for  if  but  three 
thousand  are  published  and  each  of  these  is  read  by 
six  persons,  we  shall  have  eighteen  thousand  readings, 
which,  multiplied  by  ten,  the  number  of  hours  devoted 
by  each  readei",  gives  us  one  hundred  and  eighty  thou- 
sand hours,  which  is  indeed  twelve  thousan"d  hours 
more  than  our  estimate  requires.  As  regards  the 
quality  and  intensity  of  the  enjoyment  to  be  derived 
from  a  perusal  of  our  volume,  we  have  not  sufficient 
boldness  to  speak.  And  we  beg  the  reader  not  to 
conclude  that  these  abstruse  calculations  have  been 
entered  into  for  an  ostentatious  display  of  mathemat- 
ical acquirements,  but  because  by  them  some  other 
hitherto  unprofitable  steward  may  be  incited  to  attempt 
something  for  the  increase  of  the  common  stock  from 
wdiich  the  happiness  of  the  world  is  in  general  de- 
rived. In  almost  all  cases  difficulties  lessen  as  we 
meet  them.  And  viewing  or  meeting  an  obstacle  in 
detail  wonderfully  reduces  its  formidableness.  A  cen- 
tury is  no  great  of  an  affiiir,  disposed  of  by  hours. 

There  is,  however,  another  thought  connected  with 
this  matter  of  time.  How  can  one  individual  know 
what  the  exact  conception  of  another  is  as  to  time? 
In  other  words,  reader,  how  can  you  determine  that 
an  hour  as  marked  by  the  clock,  does  not  ajipear  full 
five  times  as  long  to  you  as  it  does  to  me  ?  That 
it  may  possibly  be  so,  is  shown  b}^  the  fict  that  in  a 
dream  one  may  in  five  minutes  go  througli  scenes  that 
in  real  life  he  could  not  go  through  in  ten  hours  if  in 
twenty.  This  proves  that  it  is  not  the  absolute  dura- 
tion but  our  conception  of  it.     Two  men  mako  an  ap- 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       29D 

pointment  to  meet  in  one  hour.  Tliej  do  meet  at  the 
given  time,  for  both  understand  what  the  period  out- 
wardly and  arbitrarily  marked  as  an  hour  is ;  but  in 
the  mean  time  tliey  may  have  lived,  so  to  speak,  essen- 
tially different  periods,  as  determined  by  their  mental 
conceptions.  This  is  evidently  true  from  the  fact, 
long  since  stated  and  b}^  eveiy  man's  experience  con- 
firmed, that  as  we  grow  older  the  years  ajipear  to 
decrease  in  lenirth.  It  has  been  satisfactorily  estab- 
Ushed  that  to  one  of  the  age  of  ten,  a  year  seems  just 
as  long  as  four  years  will  seem  to  the  same  individual 
at  the  age  of  forty. 

And  further,  who  can  say  that  as  regards  the  lower 
animals,  the  conceptions  of  time  may  not  be  very  dif- 
ferent in  different  species,  or  even  in  different  individ- 
uals of  the  same  species?  Who  is  competent  to  show 
that  what  we  call  the  fleeting  life  of  a  butterfly  may  not 
be  to  him  as  long  as  three  score  and  ten  years  are  to 
a  man  ? 

Soon  after  noting  down  these  reflections  we  hap- 
pened to  take  in  hand  a  volume  of  the  Spectator,  and 
presently  came  across  some  speculations  similar  to  ono 
or  two  of  them.  The  first  impulse  was  to  ruthlessly 
strike  out  what  we  had  written,  both  because  the  old 
moralist  expressed  himself  much  more  felicitously,  and 
because  ours  might  seem  like  imitations.  But  on  sec- 
ond thought  we  concluded  to  do  no  such  thing;  for 
however  much  a  line  or  two  might  appear  like  imita- 
tion, we  could  boldly  challenge  both  word  and  thought 
as  our  own  and  truthfully  declare  that  we  had  not  read 
the  others  till  ours  were  in  black  and  white  :  though 
perhaps  we  ought  to  blush  in  acknowledging  such 
unacqnaintance  with  so  approved  a  model  in  English 
literature.     Instead  therefore   of  molesting  the  lines 


300  KOTABLE  THINGS. 

.we  even  took  comfort  from  the  circumstance  that  our 
specuUitions  had  for  once  run  in  so  high  a  channel  as 
those  of  the  wise  and  virtuous  Spectator  of  ohh 

The  occurrence,  however,  gave  rise  to  still  other 
reflections.  No  doubt  writers  have  often  been  charged 
with  the  really  heinous  offence  of  plagiarism  when  they 
were  not  guilty.  The  same  idea  might  spring  up  in 
several  minds;  and  one  might  give  expression  to  it 
without  knowing  that  another  had  anticipated  him, 
when  in  fact  such  was  the  case.  It  is  onl_y  when  the 
phraseology  or  something  else  renders  guilt  morally 
certain  that  the  offensive  charge  can  be  justified.  We 
recently  observed  in  a  southern  publication  a  some- 
what singular  explanation  given  in  a  defence  against  a 
charge  of  plagiarism.  It  was,  that  years  before,  the 
passage  on  which  the  charge  rested  had  been  atten- 
tively read  and  deeply  impressed  upon  the  mind ;  and 
had  been  made  use  of  without  once  realizing  that  it 
was  merely  an  offspring  of  the  memory  and  not  other- 
wise of  the  mind.  And  this  explanation  was  accepted 
as  sufficient.  It  may  be  observed,  that  intelligent 
writers  often  quote,  without  designating  as  quota- 
tions, phrases  and  even  more  extended  passages,  that 
are  presumed  to  be  so  well  known  as  to  leave  no  one 
in  error  as  to  their  origin.  It  seems  as  if  none  but  a 
critic  in  a  high  fever  would  object  to  this.  It  is  sim- 
ply relying  on  the  intelligence  of  the  reader  instead 
of  occupying  space  by  references  or  disfiguring  the 
page  by  inverted  commas  and  apostrophes. 

There  is  a  curious  conceit  that  we  remember  to  have 
come  across  in  an  old  writer,  to  the  effect  that  a  cer- 
tain number  of  ideas  were  originally  created  for  the 
use  of  the  whole  race,  and  that  these  have  been  circu- 
lating ever  since,  sometimes  turning  up  in  one  brain, 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  ECUSE.       301 

in  one  shape,  and  then  in  another  brain  in  another 
shape,  but  always  essentially  the  same.  Perhaps,  how- 
ever, it  might  be  better  to  say  that  it  was  orig-inally 
ordained  that  the  human  brain  should  be  capable  of 
working  in  just  so  many  dilferent  waj-s ;  thus  being 
able  to  produce  just  so  many  different  thoughts  or 
ideas  and  when  in  different  brains  similar  or  identical 
action  takes  place  corresponding  thoughts  are  pro- 
duced. If  anything  like  this  is  true,  the  power  of 
action  must  be  almost  without  limit;  sufficient  for  tho 
production  of  more  erratic  and  airy  wanderers  than 
the  solar  system  could  accommodate. 

It  would  cost  us  too  much  selfdonial  not  to  add 
that  there  was  one  passage  in  the  volume  of  the  Spec- 
tator alluded  to  from  which  we  drew  considerable 
comforting  assurance.  The  very  unassuming  author 
thought  that  twenty  would  be  a  "modest  computa- 
tion" of  those  who  would  peruse  each  of  his  papers. 
Now  we  had  put  down  the  number  of  our  readers  at 
only  six.  We  do  not  recall  this  to  appear  more  mod- 
est than  he,  but  for  the  opportunity  to  add  that  if  tho 
reader  should  consider  ours,  in  quality,  as  standing,  in 
regard  to  the  Spectator  as  six  to  twent}',  we  should 
be  ready  to  declare  ourselves  abundantly  satisfied. 

One  does  not  lialf  understand  a  man  by  reading  a 
grave  and  stately  biography  of  him.  And  the  biogra- 
pher who  treats  only  of  his  Subject's  most  dignified 
traits  leaves  his  work  half  done.  Glimpses  of  his 
every  day  life,  of  his  loves  and  hates,  his  labors  and 
recreations,  are  needed  for  a  proper  understanding. 
We  would  know  what  kind  of  meat  he  prefers  for  his 
dinner,  whether  he  loves  plum  broth  and  veal  pie,  as 
well  as  what  books  he  has  on  bis  library  shelves,  or 


302  NOTABLE   TinNGS, 

"wliat  studies  occupy  his  attention.  It  is  interesting  to 
learn  whether  he  walks  erect  and  is  of  perfect  form, 
or  stoops  in  his  gait,  is  bandy-legged,  or  splay-footed; 
whether  he  wears  an  old  hat  and  red  waistcoat,  or  is  a 
dandy  with  curled  hair  and  white  kids.  If  he  twitches 
and  jerks  and  touches  the  posts  as  he  walks  the  street, 
we  like  to  be  told  of  it.  Whether  the  little  girls  get 
kisses  and  the  little  boys  cuffs  when  he  meets  them, 
or  l)eggars  get  pennies  or  curses  it  is  always  interest- 
ing to  know. 

Boswell,  who  certainly  was  not  deserving  of  mar- 
tyrdom for  his  intellectual  eminence,  produced  a  won- 
derfully interesting  biography  of  tiiat  giant  in  intellect 
and  ill  manners,  about  whom  he  so  long  revolved  as 
an  obsequious  satellite  —  a  biography  which  will  inter- 
est mankind  for  ages  to  come.  But  if  in  place  of  that 
gossi{)ing  author,  one  of  the  lofty  sort  had  undertaken 
the  work  the  popular  recollection  of  both  subject  and 
writer  v/ould  by  this  time  have  reached  the  verge  of 
oblivion. 

The  letters  of  great  men  usually  furnish  most  accept- 
able reading,  for  in  them  are  generally  found  genuine 
breatliings  of  the  spirit.  And  in  preparing  the  biogra- 
phical sketches  in  this  volume,  we  have  many  times 
had  occasion  to  lament  the  impossibility  of  pi-ocuring 
more  letters  and  scraps  of  writing  whereby  to  enrich 
our  pages.  But  most  of  the  Avorthies  were  little 
accustomed  to  the  use  of  the  pen  beyond  what  the 
common  affairs  of  life  demanded.  We  have  gathered 
wluit  materials  we  could  from  contempoi'aneous  sources 
and  endeavored,  in  an  impartial  way,  to  digest  them 
for  the  reader's  benefit. 

Such  c(msi(lerations  as  appear  in  the  foregoing,  in- 
duce us  to  believe  that  the  following  passages  from  an 


TEE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       303 

old  lottor  wliich  seems  to  have  been  the  proclnctioii  of 
one  Samuel  Walton  would  prove  highly  acceptable. 
Whether  the  writer  was  of  the  same  line  with  piscatory 
Izaak,we  cannot  say,  though  the  genius  of  the  two 
seems  to  have  been  developed  much  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. We  consider  the  letter  a  treasure,  giving,  as  it 
does,  a  grapliic  view  of  one  or  two  characteristics  of 
Mr.  Shepard,  the  first  minister  of  the  Old  Tunnel, 
which  we  have  nowhere  else  seen  alluded  to : 

"The  minister,  M'"  Shepard,  tho  in  no  wise  giuen 
to  saying  or  doeing  any  but  grave  things,  yet  hath 
Gome  loves  that  be  not  of  the  studie  or  the  prilpitt. 
And  amoung  his  loves  he  doth  reckon  eals.  He  will 
sometimes  try  the  sport  of  catching  the  snme.  And 
I  would  fain  tell  of  a  time  we  had  on  the  r3'ver  of  Sau- 
gust,  of  a  cold  day,  with  our  speares. 

"  M""  Shepard  did  say  to  me,  in  y^  morning,  '  Samuel,' 
sayd  he,  *  I  do  beleave  in  eals,  and  am  minded  to  go  to 
the  ryver  t!iis  afternoon  and  speare  for  some,  not 
haveing  had  a  dish  of  the  dainty  things  since  y**  last 
week,  of  a  Tewsday;  and,  Samuel,  I  would  have  you 
go  with  me.' 

"'Well,  Master  Shepard,'  quoth  I,  '  it  would  suit  me 
well  to  go,  and  I  will  call  for  you  in  good  time,  with 
my  hand  sled  &  speare.' 

"'So  do,  so  do,  Samuel,'  sayd  he,  'and  I  must  de- 
pend upon  )-ou,  as  you  come  along,  to  call  at  JM""  Pur- 
chis's  house,  &  get  the  loan  of  his  speare,  as  I  haue 
none.  And  I  will  be  ready  with  an  axe  wherewith  to 
cut  the  holes  in  the  ice,  against  your  comeing  with  tho 
sled.  And  the  Dame  will  likewise  make  ready  for  us 
a  bite  of  something  whereby  to  sta}'  our  stomacks. 
And  if  you  have  a  mind,  Samuel,  you  may  bring  along 
your  little  red  keg,,  foi-  mine  hath  sacrament  wino  in  it, 


304  KOTABLE  THINGS, 

and  I  will  put  a  little  something  in  y*^  same  to  warm 
our  stomacks  withal.  For  it  is  best,  Samuel/  sayd  he, 
giveing-  his  eye  a  little  turn,  'to  go  prepared  to  meet 
mishaps.' 

"'Of  a  truth,  Master  Shepard,'  quoth  I,  'you  are 
ever  mindef'ul  of  y°  wants  of  body  as  well  as  soul.  The 
keg  shall  be  there.' 

"Presently  after  dinner  I  did  as  M""  Shepard  had  bid 
me,  calling  at  M''  Purchis's  for  the  speare  and  being  at 
the  house  betimes.  Y"  minister  was  already  in  his 
warm  mufflers,  red  leggins  and  big  bootes.  So  we 
soon  got  on  our  way  to  the  ryver,  I  dragging  the  sled 
and  he  bearing  y*'  two  speares  on  his  shoulder,  they 
not  riding  well  on  the  sled.  We  held  much  grave  dis- 
course on  the  road,  about  the  Deuil  &  his  late  doeings 
hereabout  by  witchci'aftes  and  other  diabolical  contri- 
vances, and  y°  defeats  put  on  him  by  God's  power  thro 
his  servants  the  godly  ministers. 

"Getting  upon  the  rj^ver,  we  straightway  set  about 
our  work,  the  time  being  short  before  sunsettiug.  Our 
holes  in  y°  ico  being  cut,  'Now,'  quoth  I  to  Master 
Shepard,  'stir  about,  stir  about,  for  the  air  is  mighty 
chill;  and  I  dare  promise  we  shall  have  a  goodly  mess 
and  be  ready  for  home  afore  night  cometh  on.' 

"Some  lusty  prey  soon  fell  to  vs,  whereat  we  took 
encouragement  &  did  not  note  y''  time  till  nigh  the 
going  down  of  the  sun.  The  cold  grew  to  be  very 
great,  insomuch  that  when  we  wetted  our  garments 
they  presently  froze  stiff.  And  to'  our  great  discom- 
fort the  wind  from  the  northeaste,  began  to  blow  hard 
and  the  snow  to  fly.  By  a  mishap,  when  cutting  a 
fresh  hole,  y*^  axe  slipped  from  my  benumbed  h.and  and 
went  to  the  bottom,  greatly  to  our  grief,  for  the  loss 
of  it  was  more  than  the  gains  by  all  the  eals  that  wo 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       305 

could  hope  to  catch.  But  it  was  a  prouidence  that 
M''  Shepard  well  sayd  we  should  bear  with  patience. 

•'  It  getting  dark  apace,  I  gathered  the  eals  into  the 
box  vpon  the  sled,  &  advertised  Master  Shepard  that 
it  was  high  time  to  think  of  moveing ;  wherevpon  he 
withdrew  his  speare  from  y®  hole,  and  being  about  to 
step  to  the  sled,  came  nigh  to  breaking  his  back  by  a 
forward  pitch,  not  being  able  to  move  his  feet. 

" '  Mercie  on  us  ! '  quoth  he  '  why,  Samuel,  my  feet 
are  both  froze  hard  to  the  ice,' 

"  I  was  much  terrifyed,  and  sayd,  '  Master  Shepard, 
I  fear  that  you  did  not  stir  about,  as  I  bid  you,  when 
we  began  to  speare.  Did  you  not  take  note  that  while 
speareing  I  walked  around  the  hole  and  keeped  my 
feet  astir,  for  y®  new  water  drawing  up  with  the  poles 
doth  put  one  in  great  hazard  of  freezing  down.  I  be 
not  so  forward  as  to  hope  to  instruct  mine  own  minis- 
ter in  what  doth  pertain  to  y®  holy  ordinances  or  in 
y^  learning  of  y^  schools;  but  I  do  think  that  in  spearing 
eals  I  may  show  more  science  than  some  having  greater 
godliness.' 

" '  Samuel,'  quoth  he,  '  you  did  indeed  bid  me  stir 
about,  but  I  thot  your  meaning  was  to  stir  the  speare, 
about,  &  that  I  uerily  did,  mvch  to  the  weariness  of  my 
arms,  which  have  suffered  great  pains  with  the  cease- 
less stirring.  But  we  must  not  parley,  Samuel,  for  I 
am  beginning  to  greatly  suffer.' 

"  The  axe  being  gon  I  knew  not  what  to  do.  With 
the  speare  I  could  do  nothing,  y®  prongs  bending  so 
badl3^  And  while  casting  about  for  some  other  means, 
quoth  M""  Shepard, 

"'Come  hither,  Samuel,  and  stand  with  your  back 
towards  me,  &  near.  You  are  shorter  than  I,  and  by 
putting  my  hands  vpon  your  shoulders,  and  gaining  as 

20 


306  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

they  say  a  purchase  for  the  strongest  muscles,  I  may 
peradventure  strain  my  bootes  from  the  ice  or  myself 
from  the  bootes,  tho  they  are  mightie  tight  about  the 
ankle.' 

"'Well  thot  of/  quoth  I,  and  stood  as  he  did  bid 
me.  But  I  came  nigh  being  crushed  by  y*  force  he 
put  vpon  me,  in  the  tryals  to  free  himself;  yet  he  could 
do  nothing. 

'* '  Samuel/  cryed  he,  '  this  is  indeed  a  bad  business, 
and  I  know  not  what  is  to  come  of  it.  But  no  time  is 
to  be  lost,  for  the  darkness  is  already  vpon  us ;  and 
besides,  y®  snow  is  falling  fast  &  y*  cold  is  very  great. 
Haste  you  to  the  nearest  habitation  and  crave  succor. 
Bring  a  kettle  of  hot  water,  an  axe,  or  some  means 
whereby  I  may  be  discharged  from  this  vile  imprison- 
ment. And,  Samuel,  bring  likewise  a  little  something 
warming  to  take  within,  for  that  brought  in  the  keg 
hath  long  since  been  exhausted.' 

"■  I  essayed  to  do  as  he  would  have  me,  when  lo, 
much  to  my  distress  I  found  that  I  too  had  been 
imprudent  in  too  long  standing  still,  &  was  myself  a 
prisoner,  being  frozen  down  as  strong  as  Master  Shep- 
ard.  Casting  about  as  to  Avhat  had  best  be  done,  we 
could  fix  on  nothing.  And  all  y^  time  y®  bad  matter 
getting  worse,  our  hearts  did  begin  to  fail  us. 

** '  Samuel,'  again  cryed  M'"  Shepard,  after  some  thot, 
'  we  have  nothing  left,  as  I  see,  to  depend  on,  save  our 
lungs.  We  must  set  up  a  halloing,  such  as  shall  be 
heard  by  some  waj'farer,  if  such  should  happen  to  be 
upon  the  road  ;  or,  if  there  be  no  traueller  abroad, 
then  we  must  make  ovrselues  heard  as  far  off  as  yonder 
habitations  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  or  even  to  y^  tavern 
beyond.  And,  Samuel,  we  must  do  it  speedily,  or 
every  thimble  full   of  marrow  in   our  bones  will  be 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       307 

chilled,  and  we  shall  be  buryed  vp  in  y^  snow  which 
begins  to  drift  so  around  vs.' 

" '  Had  we  not  better/  quoth  I,  '  sing  a  psalm  to- 
gether, for  by  so  doeing  we  may  make  a  chord,  as  it 
were  twisting  our  voyces  together  and  thereby  making 
a  louder  alarrum.  And  by  the  means  of  a  psalm  we 
may  likewise  be  crying  for  earthly  help  and  praiseing 
God  at  y^  same  time,  which  we  should  always  do.' 

'•' '  Well  thot  of/  returned  he,  '  well  thot  of.  Samuel, 
there  is  always  some  good  thing  turning  up  in  your 
mind ;  but  if  there  be  any  of  those  high  keyed  songs 
of  the  world's  people  that  might  be  heard  farder  off 
or  catch  the  ear  quicker  than  a  psalm  or  hymn,  strike 
out  vpon  one,  and  I  doubt  not  that  God  will  overlook 
our  prophanity  in  our  extremity.' 

"  '  I  think,  Master  Shepard,'  said  I,  '  that  we  should 
neuer  do  wrong,  be  the  extremity  what  it  may.  And 
I  make  bold  to  exhort  to  the  use  of  a  psalm,  in  the 
first  place.' 

" '  Well,  well,  Samuel,'  quoth  he,  '  a  psalm  it  shall 
be ;  and  we  must  quickly  strike  the  same  or  it  will  be 
all  ouer  with  vs.  Begin,  Samuel,  begin ;  and  have  a 
care  that  the  pitch  is  high.' 

"  '  Nay,  nay.  Master  Shepard,'  returned  I,  '  but  you 
know  better  than  I  y®  psalm  best  suited  to  our  condition 
and  peril.' 

"  *  'Sdeath,  Samuel/  he  replyed,  with  some  quick- 
ness, '  we  must  lose  no  time  in  parleying.'  And  there- 
upon he  put  his  hands  vpon  his  hipps,  and  commenced 
in  a  mighty  voyce  y®  most  comforting  words  of  the 
psalm  set  to  y^  enspiring  tune  of  Goodhope,  And  we 
did  sing  with  all  our  might,  haveing  greater  care  for 
noise  than  musick. 

"  Presently  we  did  hear  one  vp  y®  lane,  calling  loudly 


308  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

for  alarrum,  declaring  that  lie  heard  y®  wilde  beasts 
crying  down  from  tlie  woods,  and  bidding  all  come 
forth  with  musquets  for  to  shoot  them.  Then  great 
fear  did  come  vpon  vs  lest  we  should  be  fired  vpon 
thro  the  darkness  and  shot  for  wild  beasts.  So  we 
stopped  our  song  and  M""  Shepard  cryed  in  plain  words 
of  great  lamentation  and  with  a  lusty  voyce.  And 
presently  to  our  great  releaf  and  the  saveing  of  our 
poor,  frail  bodys  some  were  made  to  hear  our  cryes 
and  understand  our  distresses.  They  speedily  came 
to  our  rescue ;  and  all  declared  that  we  were  just 
freezing  and  that  in  a  few  minutes  all  w^ould  have  been 
Guer  with  vs.  Not  being  able  to  walk,  they  carryed  us 
in  a  tender  manner  to  y®  tavern,  where  we  were  well 
warmed  within  and  swaddled  and  doctored.  But  we 
have  greatly  suffered  euer  since. 

"  I  haue  fears  that  ovr  disasters  be  in  some  way  the 
work  of  the  old  serpent  the  Devil,  for  eals  be  some- 
what in  likeness  of  y*  serpent  kind.  And  henceforth  I 
will  no  more  meddle  with  what  may  be  children  or 
imps  of  y^  great  tempter.  And  M'"  Shepard  hath  de- 
clared that  he  no  longer  beleaves  in  eals. 

"  God  be  praised  for  so  preserving  vs.     Amen." 

Among  the  refugees  from  European  oppression  who 
came  to  North  America  after  the  establishment  of  the 
earlier  colonies,  there  were  none  more  interesting  than 
the  Huguenots.  After  the  revocation  of  the  edict  of 
Nantz  many  a  tearful  eye  was  turned  hopefully  to- 
wards America,  and  many  of  these  poor  French  Pro- 
testants fled  to  our  shores  and  established  themselves 
in  little  colonies.  But  the  emigration  flowed  chiefly  to 
the  south  of  New  England.  New  York,  Virginia,  and 
Carolina   received  them  kindly.      In    some    instances 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       309 

speciii!  laws  were  made  for  tlieir  naturalization.  And 
as  they  were  in  very  reduced  circumstances^,  large 
donations,  public  and  private,  were  cheerfully  bestow- 
ed on  them.  Their  taxes,  for  public  purposes,  were 
very  generally  remitted.  And  in  various  ways  they 
were  most  kindly  dealt  with  till  they  were  able  to 
supply  their  own  wants. 

What  kind  of  reception  these  friendless  refugees 
would  have  met  with  had  they,  to  any  extent,  sought 
shelter  among  the  puritan  settlements  it  is  not  now 
possible  to  determine.  But  judging  by  the  course 
pursued  toward  others  the  presumption  cannot  be  re- 
garded as  favorable. 

The  little  lodgment  that  the  Huguenots  made  in 
what  is  now  the  town  of  Oxford,  in  "Worcester  county, 
appears  to  have  been  their  only  one  hereabout.  And 
though  the  English  do  not  seem  to  have  ever  assumed 
a  decidedly  hostile  attitude  towards  this  inconsiderable 
colony,  they  yet  do  not  appear  to  have  offered  them 
aid  or  comfort.  Alone  they  heroically  met  the  assaults 
of  the  Indians,  and  endured  the  keenest  privations  and 
sternest  perils.  But  they  finally  dwindled  away  and 
disappeared,  without  having  received  help,  sympathy, 
or  even  christian  recognition. 

It  was  as  true  of  the  Huguenots  as  ot  any  people 
that  the  earth  ever  bore,  that  they  forsook  their  loved 
firesides  and  homes  for  Religion's  sake.  By  that  one 
fata]  stroke  of  malign  power,  the  revocation  by  Louis 
the  ftuii-teenth  of  the  gracious  edict  of  Henry  the 
fourth,  more  than  fifty  thousand  were  forced  to  flee, 
stripped  of  their  possessions,  and  urged  on  by  the 
dread  apprehension  of  the  scaff'old,  the  dagger  and  the 
faggot.  Numbers  turned  their  eyes  to  lands  beyond 
the,western  wave.    True,  a  wilderness  lay  before  them  j 


310  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

but  behind  them  loomed  the  red  fires  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew's. 

It  is  refreshing  to  find  that  among  the  churchmen  of 
New  York  and  Virginia,  if  nowhere  else  on  the  Ame- 
rican shores,  the  poor  Huguenots  found  a  peaceful 
retreat.  And  in  after  years  their  noble  blood  that 
flowed  down  through  the  veins  of  Jay,  Laurens,  Bou- 
dinot,  and  a  host  of  others  whose  names  have  become 
illustrious  in  American  history,  abundantly  repaid  for 
all  the  benevolent  eS'orts  that  were  put  forth  to  save 
them  in  the  day  of  peril. 

On  a  chill,  drizzly  Sunday  afternoon,  in  November, 
just  before  the  hour  for  the  commencement  of  the 
services  at  the  Old  Tunnel,  there  approached  along 
the  road  that  wound  up  the  middle  of  the  open  Com- 
mon, a  stranger,  of  such  appearance  as  to  attract  the 
attention  of  the  loungers  about  the  porches  and  horse 
sheds.  He  was  a  gentleman,  seemingly  about  fifty  years 
of  age,  tall,  erect,  and  of  fine  proportions.  His  hair 
was  slightly  lined  with  gray,  and  dark  mustaches 
curled  upon  his  lip.  His  Avhole  bearing  was  singu- 
larly dignified  and  commanding.  But  his  highly  in- 
tellectual countenance  bore  the  impress  of  care  and 
sorrow.  He  wore,  buttoned  closely  to  his  throat,  a 
coat  cut  in  French  military  style,  but  without  any 
decorations  indicative  of  the  soldier's  profession. 

Leaning  upon  one  arm  of  this  stranger  was  a  lady 
of  middle  age  and  extremely  prepossessing  appear- 
ance. Her  fine  form  and  features  attracted  many  ad- 
miring eyes.  But  her  countenance,  like  his,  seemed 
clouded  by  sorrow  and  anxiety. 

Upon  his  other  side  tripped  a  beautiful  girl  of  some 
seventeen  summers.     She  carried  in  her  hand  a  bou- 


THE  OLD  TUNXEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       311 

qnet  of  late  autumn  flowers  that  slie  had  evidently 
gathered  on  her  way  aorc^^s  the  Common.  She  wore 
a  fashionably  trimmed  French  bonnet,  and  had  the 
appearance  of  one  tenderly  bred.  Occasionally  she 
would  almost  pause  in  her  walk,  to  bestow  upon  her 
parents,  for  such  the  others  seemed  to  be,  a  look  so 
full  of  confiding  love,  and  withal  so  tinged  with  the 
sorrow  that  appeared  common  to  them  all,  that  the 
coldest  heart  might  well  have  been  touched. 

On  reaching  the  seat  to  which  they  were  shown,  the 
three  strangers  knelt,  in  silent  prayer,  in  accordance 
with  the  ancient  and  beautiful  custom  which  prevailed 
in  all  branches  of  the  christian  church,  from  the  earli- 
est days  till  the  time  when  the  Puritans  commenced 
their  purifications.  They  knelt  —  and  while  on  their 
knees,  a  sudden  break  in  the  clouds  illumined  the 
whole  house ;  the  warm  sunbeams  streaming  through 
the  little  diamond  panes  and  falling  in  inexpressible 
beauty  upon  the  bowed  heads.  The  old  Romans  would 
have  deemed  this  a  happy  omen,  and  such  strange 
worshipers  in  some  way  favored  of  heaven.  But  our 
unimaginative  fathers  probably  considered  it  only  as  a 
special  interposition  to  enable  them  the  more  clearly 
to  discern  an  idolatrous  act. 

The  services  closed,  and  the  congregation  retired, 
many  of  them  stopping  to  lounge  in  the  porches  and 
about  the  doors,  to  exchange  salutations  and  discuss 
the  news  and  gossip  of  the  week.  The  strangers 
passed  quietly  out,  and  were  suffered  to  go  their  way 
without  receiving  any  courteous  recognition,  or  even 
the  slightest  notice  be3'ond  being  rudely  stared  at. 
But  if  the  villagers  said  nothing  to  them  they  said 
enough  about  them  and  their  "  church  fashions." 

Some  days  passed  and  it  was  ascertained  that  these 


312  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

strangers  were  a  family  of  French  Protestants  who 
had  fled  from  a  happy  and  kixiirious  liome  with  the 
small  means  that  in  their  hasty  retreat  they  were  able 
to  secure.  Something  had  attracted  them  to  this  par- 
ticular spot,  and  they  came  with  the  intention  of  ma- 
king arrangements  for  the  purchase  of  land  and  the 
establishment  of  a  colony. 

It  appeared  that  the  gentleman's  name  was  Boudinot. 
He  was  able  to  converse  pretty  freely  in  the  English 
language,  and  immediately  set  about  the  business  for 
which  he  came.  He  was  not  long  in  paying  his  re- 
spects to  Mr.  Shepard  and  the  chief  men  of  the  parish, 
for  the  purpose  of  making  known  his  plans  and  inter- 
esting thein  in  behalf  of  himself  and  his  fellow  sufferers. 
But  he  found  them  as  cold  as  stones.  They  seemed  to 
possess  an  extraordinary  apprehension  of  everything 
evolved  by  a  French  mind ;  talked  of  the  poverty  of 
the  land ;  and  expressed  in  very  decided  terms  their 
dread  of  having  the  seeds  of  spiritual  thorns  scattered 
in  their  beautifully  tilled  portion  of  the  garden  of 
the  Lord. 

On  the  day  following  the  third  formal  conference  of 
M.  Boudinot  with  Mr.  Shepard  and  the  other  chief  men, 
there  was  a  great  training  on  the  extensive  and  conve- 
nient area  in  which  the  Meeting  House  was  centered. 
An  array  of  booths,  in  which  were  sold  fruit,  cakes, 
beer,  cider,  and  all  sorts  of  muddling  drinks,  graced 
the  sides  of  the  sanctuary.  And  the  legitimate  effects 
of  these  were  soon  apparent.  Some  got  drunk  and 
had  fights.  Some  danced,  with  lewd  girls,  in  the  back 
apartments  of  the  booths,  to  the  music  of  cracked 
fiddles.  Some  laughed  at  the  tricks  of  the  buffoons 
and  speeches  of  the  mock  orators.  And  some  soberly 
watched    the   evolutions  of  the  soldiers  or  quietly  pro- 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       313 

menaded  with  their  wives,  daughters  or  sweethearts, 
mourning,  at  every  spare  moment,  over  such  depravity. 

The  troops  assembled  from  far  and  near.  And  they 
made  an  imposing  display,  each  individual  being  array- 
ed very  much  according  to  his  own  fancy.  Here  was 
a  coat  of  dingy  red,  and  there  a  jacket  of  pea-green ; 
here  fall  yellow  leather  breeches  and  there  gray  tights 
and  red  leggins;  here  an  unshapely  bear  skin  cap  of 
enormous  dimensions  and  ferocious  aspect,  such  as 
might  excite  the  envy  of  the  most  uncivilized  Russian, 
and  there  a  cap  of  squirrel  or  racoon  skin,  with  tail 
erect  for  a  plume  —  to  say  nothing  of  others,  of  indes- 
cribable material  and  fashion,  decorated,  perhaps,  by 
an  eagle  feather  or  a  contribution  from  the  tail  of  goose 
or  gobbler  or  even  the  more  lowly  inhabitant  of  the 
barn  yard. 

On  reviewing  them,  one  might  have  imagined  that 
they  had  adopted  the  tactics  of  the  valiant  Chinese, 
and  depended  upon  their  extraordinary  appearance  to 
frighten  invaders  from  their  territories ;  or  designed 
such  a  display  as  would  be  pretty  sure  to  render  their 
Indian  foes  stupid  from  admiration. 

We  are  sorry  to  believe,  by  the  way,  that  the  hostility 
towards  the  Indians,  in  many  instances,  received  a  de- 
cidedly religious  coloring.  Too  many  seem  to  have 
thought  that  it  was  doing  God  service  to  destroy  the 
red  men.  And  under  such  circumstances,  many  who 
would  otherwise  have  been  least  courageous  were 
zealous  to  meet  the  dangers  of  the  field,  finding  it 
much  easier  to  bring  their  minds  to  fight  for  a  pass- 
port to  heaven  than  to  gain  it  by  repentance  and 
amendment.  Such  has  always  been  the  case,  both 
before  and  since  the  sanguinary  lustre  of  the  Crusades 
beamed  upon  the  world. 
N 


314  KOTABLE  THINGS. 

But  we  would  certainly  say  nothing  disparagingly  of 
the  courage  of  the  colonial  soldiery.  The  parade  in 
question  appears  to  have  been  a  sort  of  military  fancy 
show  —  a  dress  parade,  to  use  a  more  refined  term. 
When  they  took  the  field  for  real  service,  they  went 
forth  uniformly  accoutred  in  homelj''  regimentals  but 
with  hearts  undaunted  by  the  prospect  of  a  winter's 
march  through  snowy  wilds,  to  meet  cunning  and 
relentless  foes ;  and  with  hearts  all  aglow  for  their 
homes  and  their  religion. 

The  troops,  on  the  bloodless  occasion  in  question, 
performed  a  variety  of  extraordinary  evolutions.  But 
unfortunately,  the  commander  who  was  somewhat  new 
in  his  position,  was  inclined  to  pay  his  respects  to  the 
liquor  booths  rather  too  often.  So  about  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon,  while  going  through  an  exercise 
similar  to  the  graceful  one  of  whipping-the-snake,  he 
got  the  whole  line  inextricably  entangled.  He  was 
extremely  mortified  at  his  misadventure  before  such 
a  crowd  of  spectators,  many  of  whom  were  from 
abroad ;  some,  of  superior  military  rank.  The  poor 
man  was  in  very  great  perplexity.  He  strode  round, 
ordering  and  countermanding,  sweating  and  swearing, 
till  he  was  well  nigh  exhausted.  The  sober  minded 
felt  great  pain  for  him.  And  those  disposed  to  make 
merry  over  the  mishaps  of  others  —  there  being  a  few 
such  in  the  world  even  in  those  days  —  gave  the  reins 
to  their  risibility.  And  presently  by  the  excitement  of 
•some  and  goadings  of  others  matters  seemed  to  be 
fast  passing  from  the  comic  to  the  tragic.  Loud  hoot- 
ings  began  to  be  heard.  And  here  and  there  strong 
arms  were  raised,  in  gyrations  demonstrative  of  any- 
thing but  peaceful  intent. 

At  this  juncture  M.  Boudinot  suddenly  appeared  at 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       315 

the  side  of  the  distressed  commander.  His  dark  eye 
glowed  as  if  some  new  inspiration  were  upon  him,  and 
he  drew  himself  up  in  such  a  singularly  soldierlike  and 
commanding  attitude  as  to  instantly  attract  the  atten- 
tion of  those  about  him.  Without  any  apologies  or 
hesitancy  he  immediately  began,  in  a  clear,  full  voice, 
to  issue  orders  to  the  entangled  troops,  who  still  con- 
tinued in  vain  manoeuvring,  like  some  gigantic  snake, 
wounded  and  desperate.  Instant  obedience  followed 
his  commands,  every  soldier  seeming  as  if  bound  by 
some  irresistible  impulse  to  obey.  Only  a  few  simple 
orders  had  been  given,  when,  to  the  astonishment  of  all, 
the  coils  and  kinks  in  the  ranks  were  resolved,  and  all 
was  restored  to  order.  Once  wheeled  into  line,  the 
panting  soldiers  looked  upon  each  other  in  amaze- 
ment, and  then  upon  their  new  commander  in  awe, 
and  finally  set  up  such  a  shout  as  would,  had  it  been 
all  wind,  have  shaken  the  very  belfiy  from  the  Meeting 
House. 

M.  Boudinot  entered  with  great  spirit  into  the  re- 
maining exercises.  He  took  the  sword  from  the  unre- 
sisting hand  of  the  commander  and  marched  and  drilled 
the  men  in  a  manner  that  excited  the  greatest  admi- 
ration. Under  his  skillful  orders  the  troops  performed 
intricate  evolutions  with  an  case  and  exactness  that 
astonished  themselves  as  well  as  others.  They  began 
suddenly  to  look  upon  their  legions  as  highly  accom- 
plished in  the  military  art,  and  were  not  much  sur- 
prised when  in  his  terse  speech  at  the  time  of  dismissal 
he  declared  that  after  a  little  further  discipline  they 
would  be  fit  for  an  imperial  review. 

When  M.  Boudinot  returned  his  sword  to  the  com- 
mander, tliat  then  cloudy-minded  and  abashed  func- 
tionary curiously  examined  it  from  point  to  hilf,  as  if 


316  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

ill  search  for  the  hiding  place  of  tlie  talismanic  power 
so  recently  developed.  But  being  disappointed  ia 
finding  it  still  the  same  old  sword,  he  attempted  no 
further  exploits,  but  dismissed  the  troops  forthwith. 
A  number  of  platoons  of  volunteers,  were,  however, 
immediately  formed,  and  with  two  drums  and  a  fife 
escorted  M.  Boudinot  to  his  quarters  —  the  dingy  little 
village  tavern.  And  there  they  left  him  with  a  round 
of  cheers  which  brought  his  wife  and  daughter  in 
fright  to  the  scene. 

This  exhibition  of  military  skill  in  M.  Boudinot, 
instantly  turned  the  tide.  It  now  set  tumultuously  in 
his  favor,  and  in  twenty  four  hours  overwhelmed  every 
objection  to  his  idolatry  in  kneeling  in  the  Meeting 
House  and  even  to  his  French  brogue.  He  was  now 
looked  upon  as  one  able  to  render  essential  service  in 
the  day  of  peril.  Mr.  Shepard  declared  that  it  would 
be  rejecting  an  offering  of  Providence  to  decline  re- 
ceiving one  so  evidently  appointed  to  bo  a  protector. 
A  meeting  was  immediately  held,  and  it  was  by  accla- 
mation decided  to  bestow  much  more  than  he  hail  pre- 
viously asked.  And  various  other  christian-like  and 
lionorable  acts  were  resolved  on.  Indeed  it  is  difficult 
to  determine  what  they  would  not  have  done  for  him 
had  it  been  proposed  as  a  condition  on  which  he  would 
rem  lin. 

But  within  forty  eight  hours  after  the  setting  of  the 
sun  that  rejoiced  in  beholding  that  remarkable  parade 
of  the  brave  colonial  soldiery,  M.  Boudinot,  with  his 
sorrowing  little  fimily  had  departed  from  Lynn,  never 
again  to  set  foot  upon  her  soil.  They  went  to  Vir- 
ginia, where  favorable  terms  for  settling  were  readily 
obtained  and  where  they  were  soon  joined  by  others 
who  had  fled  from  distracted  France.     The  daughter 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       317 

soon  married  a  wealtliy  young  planter.  And  some  of 
the  present  leading  southern  families  sprang  from  the 
union.  A  grandchild  of  hers  was  a  colonel  in  the  army 
of  the  Revolution.  And  one  of  the  most  able  sena- 
tors, in  the  present  congress  of  the  United  States, 
is  accustomed  to  boast  of  his  descent  from  her. 

Among  the  noblest  efforts  of  our  foreflithers  were 
those  directed  towards  the  founding  of  educational 
institutions  that  would  enable  all  classes  to  receive 
such  instruction  as  would  be  necessary  for  success 
in  life. 

The  establishment  of  the  free  schools  of  New  Eng- 
land seems  to  have  been  the  offspring  of  a  new  order 
of  thought.  The  idea  had  prevailed  that  the  masses, 
if  educated,  could  not  be  governed  by  the  so  called 
divinely  constituted  authorities.  And  there  was  much 
worldly  wisdom  in  the  idea.  For  as  soon  as  the  masses 
should  become  enlightened  they  might  doubt  the  di- 
vine authority. 

When,  however,  the  New  England  immigration  com- 
menced, this  old  opinion  began  to  decay,  and  the  con- 
ception that  men  might  possibly  possess  power  to 
govern  themselves,  began  to  prevail.  And  following 
closely  on  that  there  seems  to  have  been  another,  not 
at  first  clearly  defined,  but  easily  traceable,  to  wit,  that 
here,  in  this  newly  reclaimed  heritage,  great  experi- 
ments in  the  art  of  self-government  were  destined  at 
no  very  distant  day  to  be  undertaken.  And  prepara- 
tory to  such  important  events,  a  certain  amount,  at 
least,  of  education  would  be  necessary.  One  of  the 
first  things  set  about,  then,  was  the  establishment  of 
elementary  schools.  And  it  is  not  perhaps  too  much 
to  say,  that  these  early  conceptions  were  the  springs 


318  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

to  wliich  are  to  be  traced,  In  an  eminent  degree,  our 
nation;vl  happiness  and  renown. 

At  first,  the  clergy  labored  much  in  the  educational 
field.  Indeed,  they  may,  in  a  general  sense,  be  spoken 
of  as  the  first  teachers.  And  great  honor  is  due  them 
for  their  zeal  and  efficiency.  They  were  not  accus- 
tomed to  plead  the  inability  of  the  youthful  mind  to 
bear  the  burden  of  study,  in  excuse  for  their  own  indo- 
lence. 

The  Third  Plantation  was  always  able  to  boast  of 
as  efficacious  means  for  the  instruction  of  her  youth, 
as  any  of  her  sister  plantations.  And  in  our  highly 
flivored  time,  as  appears  by  the  annual  reports  of  the 
committees,  the  schools  within  the  borders  of  her 
charter-blessed  child  are  quite  unsurpassed  by  any  un- 
der the  ciinopy  of  heaven.  Indeed,  do  not  the  stato 
educational  reports  show  that  the  common  schools 
throughout  the  commonwealth  are  immeasurably  supe« 
rior  to  anything  that  the  sun  has  discovered  in  any 
other  place  since  the  time  when  he  commenced  his  daily 
search  into  the  hidden  things  of  earth.  Greece  and 
Rome  being  now  in  the  rear,  it  may  be  interesting  to 
imagine  what  we  shall  arrive  at  in  a  couple  of  centuries 
more.  As  before  remarked,  it  is  a  blessed  thing  to 
have  a  good  opinion  of  ourselves.  But  if  in  making 
known  such  opinion  it  is  just  as  convenient  to  avoid 
odious  comparisons  and  unnecessary  detractions,  it 
is  not  objectionable  to  do  so. 

Blessings  on  those  good  old  fathers  for  planting 
those  educational  institutions  which  have  produced 
such  glorious  fruit. 

Amariah  Turnbndy  —  a  singular  and  unbecoming 
name,  by  the  way,  and  one  which  it  is  perhaps  fortu- 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       319 

nate  that  he  did  not  have  the  luck  to  transmit  —  sway- 
ed the  scholastic  sceptre  for  a  time  in  the  little  rustic 
gathering  place  for  dirty  faces  and  dull  heads,  that 
stood  on  a  small  conical  knoll,  some  ten  inches  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  most  extended  shadow  that  the  am- 
bitious Old  Tunnel  could  throw  by  the  aid  of  spire 
and  setting  sun.  And  he  was  an  active  and  conse- 
quential personage  among  the  worshipers  in  that  en- 
deared fane. 

Master  Turnbody  possessed  an  active  brain ;  a  brain 
extremely  fertile  of  ideas,  such  as  they  were.  But 
unfortunately  there  was  a  degree  of  discord  among 
them  that  a  colony  of  cats  and  dogs  might  emulate. 
In  their  disunion  all  strength  of  character  was  lost; 
for  we  suppose  the  converse  of  the  popular  maxim 
must  be  admitted,  and  that  in  disunion  there  is  weak- 
ness. Any  way,  ho  was  by  their  means  reduced  to  a 
simply  eccentric  character. 

He  no  doubt  had  sufficient  book  learning  for  his 
position,  for  he  had  gone  up  the  ladder  as  far  as  the 
Latin  rundle.  lie  had  a  genius  for  poetr}',  and  wrote 
out,  in  rhyme,  some  of  the  harder  lessons,  fancying 
that  in  that  form  they  could  be  more  easily  learned 
and  remembered.  And  no  doubt  he  was  right,  for 
jingle  is  more  attractive  to  people  in  general  than 
solidity.  But  with  his  singularities  were  coupled  some 
of  the  most  excellent  qualities  that  a  teacher  of  youth 
can  possess.  He  was  pious,  good-tempered  and  indus- 
trious. 

It  is  quite  characteristic  of  schoolmasters  to  philoso- 
phise and  theorise.  And  Mr.  Turnbody  was  not  sin- 
gular in  this  respect.  Among  other  conceptions  a  little 
out  of  the  common  order  were  his  theories  regarding 
the  lower  animals.     He  believed  that  all  animals  had  a 


320  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

way  of  expre?!sing  their  sentiments,  and  that  it  was 
within  the  bounds  of  possibiHty,  at  least,  for  man  to 
discover  the  means  by  which  the  thouglits,  so  to  speak, 
of  beasts,  birds  and  fishes,  could  be  ascertained.  This 
is  an  interesting  conceit,  well  worthy  of  a  Turnbody, 
and  one  that  no  reasoning  can  prove  false.  A  man  is 
always  safe  from  exposure  in  whatever  absurdity  he 
supports,  provided  he  has  the  sagacity  to  locate  his 
entrenchments  beyond  the  reach  of  human  reason. 

Mr.  Turnbody  was  much  pleased  by  the  conviction 
that  he  himself  had  grasped  certain  leading  principles 
that  lay  at  the  foundation  of  this  curious  knowledge. 
And,  acting  upon  this,  he  is  represented  to  have 
really  shown  wonderful  skill  in  judging  of  the  desires 
and  purposes  of  individuals  of  the  lower  races.  He 
seems,  certainly,  to  say  the  least,  to  have  established 
an  excellent  understanding  with  some  specimens,  if  it 
be  true,  as  stated,  that  he  was  one  afternoon  seen 
going  down  the  middle  road  -of  the  Common,  with  a 
cow,  an  old  ram,  a  dog,  a  goose,  and  an  enormous  rat, 
following  close  upon  his  heels,  each  heedless  of  the 
others,  but  all  anxious  to  gain  his  attention,  and,  per- 
haps, as  the  poet  says,  to  share  the  good  man's  smile. 

These  views  of  Mr.  Turnbody  were  brought  forcibly 
to  the  mind  of  the  writer,  by  a  curious  occurrence 
witnessed  an  hour  or  two  before  commencing  this  very 
page.  And  perhaps  they  would  not  have  been  alluded 
to  at  all,  had  it  not  been  for  the  occurrence.  A  brief 
account  of  what  we  refer  to  may  interest  the  reader. 

Geese  have  never  been  famed  for  their  intellectual 
endowments,  though  that  opportune  and  eloquent  ex- 
pression of  their  rational  fears,  on  a  certain  occasion, 
at  Rome,  might  support  some  claim.  But  let  the  com- 
mon opinion  go.     This  very  morning,  while  leisurely 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       321 

pursuing  our  way  across  the  open  fields,  our  atten- 
tion was  arrested  by  two  large  flocks  of  those  feathered 
trumpeters,  coming  over  the  hills  on  their  migratory 
journey  southward.  They  appeared  at  points  quite 
distant  from  each  other.  But  both  parties  were  belch- 
injT  forth  with  unrestrained  voice,  as  if  in  warlike  defi- 
ance  or  important  negotiation.  In  the  rear  of  each 
flock,  as  is  common  in  these  flights,  were  a  number  of 
laggers ;  and  these  evidently  impeded  the  progress  of 
the  squadrons,  which  seemed  anxious  to  press  on,  as  a 
storm  was  vigorously  pursuing.  Whether  these  lag- 
gers were  lame  or  lazy,  it  was  not  easy  to  determine ; 
nor  was  it  of  much  consequence,  as,  according  to  the 
proverb,  Providence  provides  for  both.  And  besides, 
in  this  case,  as  in  many  others,  lameness  and  laziness 
would  be  equally  detrimental  to  the  other  party.  Pre- 
sently the  two  flocks  began  to  converge.  And  as  they 
rapidly  approached  each  other  their  vociferations  be- 
came more  and  more  alarming,  till  it  seemed  as  if  a 
most  destructive  collision  were  about  to  take  place. 
They  met.  But  no  symptom  of  anger  was  manifested. 
After  a  little  manoeuvring,  the  laggers  of  both  flocks 
formed  into  a  battalion  by  themselves,  and  took  a  more 
inland  course,  while  the  two  large  bodies  separately 
bore  away  on  their  old  courses,  no  longer  impeded  by 
those  that  had  weighed  upon  their  skirts.  How  Mr. 
Turnbody  would  have  interpreted  this  management 
we  cannot  say  ;  but  it  seemed  to  us  very  much  like  a 
sagacious  arrangement  to  get  rid  of  dead  weights  in 
a  way  that  would  be  effectual  and  at  the  same  time 
not  repugnant  to  tender  consciences.  And  Ave  are 
furthermore  delighted  to  record  the  incident  as  sup- 
porting the  comforting  proverb  just  alluded  to. 

Few  things  tended  more  to  elevate  Mr.  Turnbody 
N*  21 


322  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

in  the  estimation  of  the  good  people  than  his  activity 
and  usefulness  in  the  sacred  precincts  of  the  Meeting 
House.  If  the  minister  were  indisposed,  he  was  at 
hand  to  read  a  chapter  and  expound,  or  make  a  prayer. 
And  he  usually  took  it  upon  himself  to  line  the  hymns 
and  mark  time ;  which  latter  he  did  with  a  grace  that 
all  the  attempts  of  Father  Kemp  fail  to  reach.  He 
was  always  ready  to  assist  the  ladies,  young  and  old, 
from  their  pillions,  and  to  show  strangers  to  seats. 
Indeed  there  was  no  useful  work  about  the  sanctuary 
that  came  amiss  to  his  ready  hand,  from  the  pulpit  exer- 
cises to  the  snufSng  of  the  tallow  candles  that  during 
the  evening  meetings  flared  and  dispensed  rivulets 
of  grease  over  the  tin  candlesticks  and  thence  upon 
the  heads  of  the  worshipers.  On  one  occasion,  how- 
ever, he  came  near  becoming  a  martyr  to  bis  officious- 
uess. 

The  Old  Tunnel  was  so  constructed  that  the  bell  rope 
came  down  in  the  centre  of  the  middle  aisle.  And  the 
bell  ringer  was  of  course  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
objects.  There  he  stood  in  the  dignity  of  his  great 
office,  bowing  to  the  measured  strokes  that  called  to- 
gether old  and  young,  grave  and  gay.  And  as  they 
filed  by  him  to  their  seats,  carefully  did  the  fair  ladies 
gather  their  robes  around  them  and  give  ample  berth 
to  his  rib-breaking  elbows. 

Had  the  good  dames  of  that  day  worn  to  meeting 
dresses  as  much  extended  as  do  the  ladies  of  our  time, 
the  poor  old  sexton  would  have  been  sorely  put  to  it 
for  room.  But  they  did  not  appear  in  the  house  of 
worship  in  full  dress.  They  labored  under  the  belief 
that  He  in  whose  special  presence  they  gathered  had 
no  particular  regard  for  fine  dresses,  and  left  it  for 
modern  worshipers  to  discover  that  He  is  pleased  to 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       323 

assume  the  ofBce  of  inspector  of  garments ;  for  it  is 
not  allowable  to  say  that  any  visit  the  sanctuary  to  be 
seen  of  men. 

But  to  return  to  the  occasion  on  which  Mr.  Turn- 
body  met  with  the  disaster  that  came  so  near  extin- 
guishing him. 

One  Saturday  the  sexton  went  out  on  a  fishing  ex- 
cursion, and  by  some  mishap,  chargeable  to  wind  or 
tide,  was  unable  to  get  back  in  season  for  his  Sunday 
morning  duties.  The  hour  had  nearly  arrived  for  the 
commencement  of  the  services,  and  the  bell  had  not 
yet  sent  its  solemn  summons  abroad.  Many  had  as- 
sembled and  were  waiting  in  wonder  at  the  silence 
that  reigned  in  the  belfry.  Mr.  Turnbody  was  there  ; 
and  after  fidgeting  about  and  several  times  going  out  to 
look  up  the  street  towards  the  sexton's  house,  he  spat 
on  his  hands  and  boldly  seized  the  rope,  which,  as  just 
remarked,  came  down  in  the  centre  of  the  house,  in 
view  of  the  whole  congregation.  He  gave  one  or 
two  lusty  tugs,  and  presently  some  glorious  peals  an- 
nounced to  the  world  without  that  there  was  a  new 
acquisition  within. 

But  Mr.  Turnbody  did  not  fully  understand  the  art 
and  mystery  of  scientific  bell  ringing,  and  had  not 
been  made  aware  of  any  danger.  He  neglected  to  let 
the  rope  properly  slip,  and  before  he  realized  any 
particular  necessity  for  caution  found  himself  half 
way  up  to  the  roof,  still  grasping  the  rope  as  tightly 
as  if  his  life  depended  on  the  tenacity.  He  gave  a 
terrific  shriek.  But  in  a  moment,  the  reversal  of  the 
motion  of  the  wheel  brought  him  down  to  the  floor 
again  with  such  violence  that  it  is  astonishing  that 
half  the  bones  in  his  body  were  not  broken.  He  lay 
gasping.     Men  and  women  rushed  to  his  assistance. 


324  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

He  was  presently  restored  to  consciousness,  and  to 
the  great  relief  of  all  found  to  be  but  little  hurt.  A 
vacation  of  two  weeks  was  sufficient  to  restore  him. 

We  cannot  help  thinking  that  Mr.  Turnbody's  ascent 
afforded  about  as  ludicrous  a  sight  as  was  ever  wit- 
nessed within  the  walls  of  the  Old  Tunnel.  Up  he 
went,  like  a  fish  fairly  caught,  his  knees  twitching 
towards  his  chin,  and  the  broad  tails  of  his  light  blue 
coat  flaring  out  mischievously  as  if  determined  to 
bring  into  view  sundry  invidious  rents  in  the  unmen- 
tionable garment  beneath,  which  was  of  brown  velvet, 
and  fitted  so  closely  as  to  endanger  the  circulation. 
He  did  not,  however,  believe  in  what  he  termed  the 
"devil  drawn  whimsey  "  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood, 
which  Harvey  had  many  years  before  made  known, 
and  which  he  and  a  certain  traveling  doctor  had  dis- 
puted about,  all  the  way,  at  the  funeral  of  Obadiah 
Turner. 

At  school,  master  Turnbody  was  fond  of  awarding  to 
this  and  that  pupil,  imagined  to  possess  a  resemblance 
in  character,  the  name  of  some  personage  of  historical 
renown.  And  he  was  accustomed  to  frequently  remind 
them  of  the  virtues  they  should  imitate  and  the  vices 
they  should  shun,  as  developed  in  their  prototypes. 
He  had  a  Socrates,  a  Mark  Anthony,  and  a  Cromwell ; 
a  Xantippe,  a  Cleopatra,  and  a  Mary  Stuart.  And  it 
would  have  surprised  him,  had  he  been  permitted  to 
live  as  long  as  they,  to  have  seen  how  strangely,  as 
trees,  they  departed  from  their  supposed  bent  as  twigs. 
He  would  have  seen  his  Socrates  in  the  stocks  for  steal- 
ing Mark  Anthony's  chickens.  Cromwell  he  would  have 
beheld  a  love-cracked  pauper.  In  the  slattern  wife  of 
a  wood-chopper  he  would  have  discovered  his  Cleopa- 
tra.    And  as  to  his  Xantippe,  he  would  have  found 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       325 

her  a  pious,  and  sympatliising  nurse  of  the  sick,  re- 
nowned for  her  patience  and  kindness.  But  notwith- 
standing all  these,  he  was  quite  as  good  a  prophet  as 
people  usually  are  who  attempt  to  discover  the  adult 
in  the  child.  And  it  should  be  remembered  that  in  his 
day  the  glorious  light  of  phrenology  had  not  been  shed 
abroad. 

At  the  time  Mr.  Turnbody  taught  here,  and  for  moro 
than  a  hundred  years  afterward,  the  people  spent  mo- 
ney grudgingly  for  the  outward  appliances  of  educa- 
tion. The  school-houses  were  mean  and  inconvenient ; 
the  benches  rough  and  uncomfortable;  and  too  often 
the  floors  were  damp  and  filthy.  Brooms  could  not 
be  afforded,  though  a  couple  of  quarts  of  rum  would 
have  bought,  of  some  strolling  Indian,  enough  of  those 
made  of  stripped  birch,  to  serve  for  a  whole  year. 
Once  or  twice  a  month,  however,  the  scholars  were 
despatched  to  the  woods  for  hemlock  boughs  where- 
with to  sweep.  And  these  expeditions  Avere  occasions 
of  rare  fun  to'  the  boys,  though  tearing  through  the 
briars  and  shinning  up  the  rough  trunks  were  death  to 
their  linsey-woolseys.  And  when  they  marched  home 
with  their  woodland  spoils  it  surely  appeared  as  if  great 
Birnam  wood  had  again  started  for  Dunsinane,  but  mis- 
taking tlie  road  had  arrived  at  Lynn. 

The  venerable  Ezekiel  Oldpath  was  a  teacher  here 
for  some  years  onward  from  1691.  His  bald  head  was 
conspicuous  ever}'  Sabbath,  near  the  northwest  corner 
of  the  Old  Tunnel.  He  was  well  qualified  for  the 
duties  of  teacher,  both  by  education  and  natural  tem- 
per. And  he  had  taught  in  Boston,  at  intervals,  for 
some  twenty  five  years,  during  the  earlier  part  of  his 
life.     At  other  intervals  he  had  been  agent  for  fishing 


326  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

companies,  attended  to  surveying,  acted  as  scrivener, 
and  so  forth.  His  first  appearance  in  Lynn  was  in  the 
capacity  of  surveyor.  And  he  was  so  charmed  with 
the  place  that  he  determined  to  take  up  his  residence 
witliin  her  borders. 

Master  Oldpath's  sterling  sense  placed  him  above 
most  of  the  prejudices  and  jealousies  of  the  times,  and 
his  urbanity  and  prudence  had  an  excellent  influence 
on  the  restless  spirits  around  him. 

He  was  one  of  the  most  active  and  judicious  in  ope- 
rating against  the  hallucinations  and  villanies  of  the 
witchcraft  eruption  of  1692;  and  to  his  exertion,  in  a 
great  degree  is  to  be  attributed  the  fact  that  it  prevailed 
to  a  small  extent  within  these  precincts,  while  neigh- 
boring places  were  absolutely  distracted.  He  warmly 
controverted  the  views  of  Chief  Justice  Stoughton 
in  a  correspondence  Avith  that  dignitary.  And  in  con- 
cert with  the  wise  Saltonstall  he  rendered  essential  ser- 
vice in  saving  innocent  lives.  President  Mather  and 
his  redoubtable  son  Cotton  came  out  several  times  to 
confer  with  him  and  endeavor  to  induce  him  to  look  at 
the  mysterious  matters  through  their  spectacles.  But 
they  found  him  as  immovable  as  the  everlasting  rock 
under  the  lee  of  which  his  modest  habitation  nestled. 

There  stood  his  little  school-house,  exposed  to  the 
rough  kisses  of  the  cutting  wind  as  it  swept  down  from 
the  northern  hills,  forming  a  central  point  for  the  ed- 
dying snows  to  dance  about.  The  shivering  little 
ones  came  gathering  from  miles  around,  and  eagerly 
snatching  their  motley  caps  from  their  heads,  unveiled 
their  purple  faces  to  meet  the  ruddy  glow  upon  the 
hearth.  Then  would  the  good  man  lay  aside  the  wont- 
ed dignity  and  distance  of  the  school-room,  to  assist  in 
restoring  the  benumbed  limbs,  ere  he  called  his  little 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE,       327 

suVtjects  to  duty.  And  the  duties  of  the  day,  in  his 
school,  always  commenced  with  the  Lord's  Pi'ayer, 
repeated  in  concert.  Then  followed  the  reading  of 
the  Litany,  every  pupil  audibly  joining  in  the  respon- 
ses, or  the  Psalter,  in  its  daily  order.  True,  this  did 
not  well  please  some  of  the  more  rigid  anti-churchmen. 
He  was  labored  with  on  the  subject,  but  declared 
that  though  himself  no  churchman,  he  yet  would  not 
dispense  with  those  exercises  so  long  as  he  taught; 
for  he  deemed  their  influence  of  more  value  to  the 
young  mind  than  all  the  other  exercises  put  together. 
He  never  did  yield,  and  on  his  death  bed  recommended 
a  continuance  of  the  custom.  And  we  do  not  believe 
that  the  school  would  have  been  damaged  had  it  been 
continued  even  to  this  day  of  worldly  wisdom. 

Master  Oldpath  took  great  pains,  while  lecturing 
his  pupils,  to  impress  upon  their  minds  such  things 
as  would  prove  most  useful  in  life.  He  had  a  respect- 
able class  in  surveying,  and  on  many  a  pleasant  after- 
noon did  he  lead  them  forth,  if  not  to  show  how  fields 
were  M'-on,  to  show  how  they  were  surveyed.  But 
above  all,  he  labored  assiduously  to  instill  into  their 
minds  the  great  principles  of  moral  rectitude  and  living 
piety. 

As  a  naturalist,  Master  Oldpath  was  famed  through- 
out the  colony.  In  his  surveying  expeditions  he  had 
good  opportunity  to  indulge  in  his  loved  studies  and 
to  collect  specimens.  And  a  capacious  unfinished  room 
in  his  house  contained  a  really  valuable  museum.  The 
great  Linnasus  was  not  then  born.  But  Ezekiel  was 
able,  by  his  own  experience  and  the  assistance  of  a 
few  others,  to  perfect  a  system  of  botanical  classifica- 
tion, quite  ingenious  and  easy  of  application.  And  it 
is  a  matter  of  mucli  regret  that  the  many  useful  facts 


328  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

he  collected  regarding  the  natural  history  of  this  region 
have  not  been  handed  down  to  us  through  the  medium 
of  more  perfect  records.  Printing  was  not  so  common 
and  cheap  then  as  it  now  is.  The  art  preservative  is  a 
blessed  art,  though  not  very  discriminating ;  for  Avhile 
it  preserves  one  page  of  value,  it  preserves  forty  that 
bad  better  pass  into  oblivion. 

It  was  always  pleasing  to  Master  Oldpath  to  have 
his  neighbors  and  fellow-townsmen,  as  well  as  strangers 
from  abroad,  examine  his  collection.  And  many  a  plea- 
sant impromptu  lecture  did  he  give  to  the  parties  who 
took  him  by  surprise  as  he  sat  in  his  curiosity  room, 
arrayed  in  his  calico  gown,  velvet  slippers  and  little 
black  skull-cap.  And  often  of  a  moonlight  evening  has 
the  timid  knock  of  youth  summoned  him  to  the  agree- 
able office  of  entertaining  lovers  who  had  strolled  up 
the  balmy  lane  perhaps  with  a  bouquet  or  curious 
pebble,  brought  as  a  simple  propitiatory  offering;  and 
his  blessing  was  sure  to  go  with  them  as  they  turned 
upon  their  homeward  path  unseen  among  the  whisper- 
ing trees  to  kiss  and  talk  of  love. 

The  brilliant  skies  and  balmy  breezes  often  called 
Mr.  Oldpath  forth  upon  long  pleasure  excursions  to 
the  forest  or  seashore,  though  he  usually  took  his  sur- 
veying implements  with  him,  as  if  in  compromise  with 
a  practical  conscience.  And  he  made  many  observa- 
tions and  determined  .many  facts,  useful  and  curious. 
It  may  be  mentioned  that  he  appears  to  have  been  the 
first  to  remark  that  the  gorgeous  coloring  of  our 
forests  in  autumn  is  not  produced  by  frosts,  but  by 
the  ripening  of  the  foliage.  And  it  is  remarkable  that 
many,  even  at  this  day,  remain  ignorant  of  the  fact. 
Observation  shows  that  trees  do  not  change  color  all 
at  one  time  any  more  than  fruits  all  ripen  at  one  time. 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       329 

The  white  birch  and  swamp  maple,  for  instance,  often 
put  on  their  beautiful  yellow  and  scarlet,  in  August ; 
and  even,  to  a  small  extent,  in  a  dry,  warm  season,  as 
early  as  July.  Irving,  Bryant  and  others  of  the  most 
charming  American  writers,  would  not  have  adopted 
the  error  and  assisted  so  much  to  fix  it  in  the  popular 
mind  had  they  been  as  observant  of  such  things  as 
Master  Old  path. 

Soon  after  the  ripening  of  the  foliage  the  heavy 
frosts  come.  These  loosen  the  leaves  and  they  soon 
fall.  Then,  if  we  have  it  at  all,  comes  the  Indian  sum- 
mer. That  lovely  interval  afforded  a  study  of  peculiar 
interest  to  Mr.  Oldpath.  It  was  as  difficult  for  him 
to  keep  within  doors  during  the  half  dozen  days  of  its 
continuance,  as  for  an  astronomer  to  remain  housed 
during  an  eclipse.  He  long  endeavored  to  ascertain 
the  natural  causes  of  such  a  delectable  elemental 
condition.  But  he  Avas  unsuccessful,  and  frankly  ac- 
knowledged that  the  red  man's  explanation  was  as 
reasonable  as  any  he  could  give ;  namely,  that  it  was  a 
period  when  a  breath  from  the  hunting  grounds  of 
heaven  was  permitted  to  sweep  down  to  earth.  Nor 
has  any  more  rational  explanation  been  given,  to  this 
day. 

Master  Oldpath  died  with  the  scholastic  harness  on. 
He  was  suddenly  seized  by  the  grip  of  the  fell  destroyer 
while  on  his  way  fi-om  school,  of  a  summer  noon,  and 
after  a  painful  struggle  of  forty  hours  yielded  up  his 
breath.  His  last  flickering  thought  seemed  to  be  of 
the  precious  little  souls  under  his  charge.  And  his 
last  words  were :  ''  Come,  come  my  children  we  must 
prepare  to  hasten  home  apace.  How  suddenly  doth 
night  come  upon  us.     Let  us  pray." 

Mr.  Shepard  preached  a  long  funeral  discourse  over 


330  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

his  remains,  containing  many  stately  periods  and  TnucTi 
sound  doctrine.  His  text  was:  I.  Kings,  iv.  33:  ''And 
he  spake  of  trees,  from  tlie  cedar  tree  tliat  is  in  Leba- 
non, even  unto  tlie  hyssop  that  springeth  out  of  the 
wall ;  he  spake  also  of  beasts,  and  of  fowl,  and  of  creep- 
ing things,  and  of  fishes." 

Many  learned  and  good  people  from  abroad  came  to 
his  funeral.  And  the  Old  Tunnel  bell  never  sounded 
in  more  mournful  notes  than  while  they  were  bearing 
him  to  his  final  resting  place  in  the  Old  Burying 
Ground. 

It  is  refreshing  to  dwell  on  a  character  like  that  of 
Master  Oldpath ;  so  unselfish,  and  so  serene  amid  the 
agitations  and  conflicts  of  the  restless  world.  And 
from  a  walk  like  his  most  useful  lessons  may  be  drawn. 
We  may  perceive  that  better  and  surer  paths  to  happi- 
ness exist  than  those  which  end  in  the  vanity  fair  of 
wealth.  The  meanest  creature  of  earth,  air  or  sea, 
was  an  object  of  interest  to  him.  The  noble  oak  upon 
the  hill  top  and  the  lowly  fern  in  the  vale  afforded 
him  hours  of  pleasant  study.  The  modest  violet  and 
creeping  moss  which  were  heedlessly  trodden  under 
foot  by  other  men  were  to  him  more  beautiful  than  the 
most  luxurious  carpet  of  man's  fashioning.  With  a  holy 
satisfaction  did  he  contemplate  all  the  works  of  nature, 
discerning  the  hand  of  the  great  Original  as  well  in 
the  whirling  thunder  storm  that  ravished  the  land- 
scape as  in  the  serenity  of  a  summer  twilight. 

It  is  unquestionably  true  that  many  of  the  teachers 
of  the  first  sons  and  daughters  of  our  favored  land 
were  profoundly  learned.  And  it  is  also  true  that 
they  kept  constantly  in  view  a  more  exalted  object 
than  is   common  with  teachers  at  this  day.     In  that 


THE   OLD    TUNNEL    MEETING    HOUSE.  331 

less  complicated  condition  of  society  comparatively- 
little  of  the  (liftnsive  kind  of  education,  if  it  may  be  so 
termed,  could  be  brought  into  action.  The  ordinary 
business  transactions  were  simple,  and  that  active 
curiosity  which  now  leads  so  many  to  endeavor  to 
pry  into  the  mysteries  of  every  conceivable  depart- 
ment of  knowledge,  without  any  definite  object  in 
view,  was  not  deemed  so  worthy  of  encouragement  as 
efforts  of  a  more  practical  nature. 

Many  of  the  first  teachers,  as  before  remarked,  were 
of  the  clergy.  And  no  one  requires  to  be  informed  of 
the  fact  that  they  were  a  learned  race.  A  high  toned 
classic  coloring  often  pervaded  their  discourses ;  and 
the  fancied  dignity  imparted  by  the  scholastic  displays, 
in  writing  and  in  speech,  would  now  appear  as  border- 
ing on  the  ludicrous.  And  the  English  hierarchy, 
being  able  to  withstand  their  valorous  assaults  with 
the  ponderous  artillery  of  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew, 
may  well  have  continued  to  claim  invulnerability.  And 
again,  being  of  the  most  rigid  order,  they  naturally 
inclined  to  look  anxiously  to  the  spiritual  condition  of 
those  under  their  charge.  And  this  was  sanctioned 
and  urged  by  the  universal  temper  of  the  community. 
So  long  as  those  elementary  principles  which  would  be 
required  in  the  ordinary  transactions  of  life  were  firmly 
fixed  in  the  mind,  mere  intellectual  attainment  was 
regarded  as  of  secondary  importance.  There  were 
but  few  books  and  proportionately  little  book  study. 
A  comparatively  large  number,  were,  however,  put  to 
the  study  of  Latin,  and  without  the  aid  of  English 
grammars,  obtained  a  good  knowledge  of  their  own 
tongue.  Latin  was,  at  that  period,  an  almost  neces- 
sary study  to  all  who  would  make  any  pretension  to 
learning.     Not    only   were    phrases   in   that    language 


332  KOTABLE    THINGS. 

common  in  books  on  almost  every  subject,  and  inter- 
spersed in  the  legal  forms,  but  the  Sunday  sermons 
were  enriched  by  them. 

Some  are  inclined  to  imagine,  in  view  of  the  limited 
variety  of  school  books  then  in  use,  that  but  little  was 
taught.  But  the  fact  is  that  the  accomplished  and 
industrious  teachers  were  a  sort  of  embodiment  of 
classic  and  scientific  knowledge,  and  through  the  en- 
gaging and  effective  medium  of  familiar  lectures  and 
conversations,  imparted,  in  history,  geograph}',  and  the 
natural  sciences,  instruction  to  as  great  an  extent  as 
was  demanded  or  deemed  expedient. 

But,  as  remarked,  the  early  teachers  kept  in  view  a 
more  exalted  object  than  is  in  our  day  required,  ex- 
pected, or  perhaps  we'  may  even  say  desired,  of  com- 
mon school  teachers.  It  was  with  them  but  a  small  part 
of  duty,  to  fit  those  under  their  charge,  to  be  merely 
successful  members  of  society  ;  to  qualify  them  for  the 
mere  business  of  life,  or  to  pass  through  life  with  the 
mere  characteristics  of  intelligence.  Their  better  ef- 
forts were  directed  to  the  nobler  purpose  of  firmly 
planting  in  the  virgin  soil  of  the  uncorrupted  heart,  a 
vigorous  growth  of  those  exalted  virtues  which  would 
bring  forth  the  fruits  of  sterling  principle  and  unswerv- 
ing integrity;  so  that  when  the  youth  went, forth  into 
the  world,  every  act,  whether  in  business,  politics,  or 
any  other  department  of  the  social  economy,  might 
rest  on  the  sanctified  basis  of  truth  and  justice.  And 
was  it  not  this,  that  made  the  institutions  they  planted 
so  enduring?  Was  it  not  this  that  imparted  to  them 
that  solid,  immutable  character  which  has  enabled 
them  to  withstand  all  the  conflicts  that  have  from  time 
to  time  agitated  society,  and  wdiich  have  turned  other, 
and  at  times  more  prosperous  institutions,  upside  down? 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       333 

And  what  was  the  reward  claimed  by  those  faithful 
old  teachers  for  thus  training  the  first  cliildren  that 
made  merry  these  streets?  The  annual  stipend  of  a 
few  pounds  currency  or  perhaps  a  few  measures  of 
grain  or  a  few  pounds  of  meat  from  each  family.  But 
could  that  have  been  called  a  reward?  Most  certainly 
not.  It  was  but  the  means  of  sustaining  life.  Their 
reward  was  of  a  far  more  exalted  and  enduring  kind. 

We  find  the  somewhat  eccentric  Doctor  Jotham 
Tyndale  a  worshiper  at  the  Old  Tunnel  during  the 
last  ten  years  of  the  seventeenth  century.  He  sat 
near  the  centre  of  the  house. 

In  stature,  Dr.  Tyndale  was  singularly  diminutive, 
being  hardly  five  feet  high,  and  by  no  means  corpulent. 
And  his  physiognomy  was  such  as  a  stranger  would  at 
once  determine  belonged  to  one  remarkable  for  some- 
thing, though  he  might  be  puzzled  to  say  what.  His 
chin  was  bony  and  tapering,  his  nose  long,  sharp,  and 
a  little  hooked.  There  was  a  redundancy  of  ivory  in 
his  mouth,  and  his  lips  were  very  accommodating  for 
the  display  of  the  same. 

In  personal  descriptions  it  is  always  expected  that 
the  forehead  shall  come  under  notice,  because  it  has 
been  ascertained  —  by  the  gas  light  of  phrenology,  we 
believe  —  that  the  higher  faculties  reside  there.  But 
here  we  are  at  fault;  for  the  Doctor's  hair  had  such  a 
propensity  to  retreat  upward,  and  the  plain  from  the 
brow  to  the  crown  was  so  regularly  inclined,  that  it 
was  impossible  to  determine  where  the  frontal  terri- 
tory ended  and  the  summit  level  began.  And  besides, 
his  hair  was  always  strained  back  to  sucli  a  degree 
that  one  would  have  supposed  it  difficult  for  him  to 
shut  his  eyes,  and  there  bound  into  a  cue,  by  an  eel 


334  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

skin.  And  this  cue  was  a  distinguishing  feature,  one 
in  which  he  took  an  almost  childish  pride,  and  one 
which  finally  came  near  being  the  death  of  him;  such 
a  judgment  often  overtaking  the  worshiper  of  an  idol. 
The  appendage  projected  almost  horizontally  and  was 
knotted  at  the  end  in  most  picturesque  style. 

We  are  aware  that  cues,  wigs,  hair  powders,  and  so 
forth,  were  not  much  in  vogue  at  that  time,  but  there 
are  always  some  whose  genius  travels  ahead  of  their 
age.  And  Dr.  Tyndale  possessed  a  rampant  genius. 
Such  things,  however,  were  known  at  that  period. 
Hair  powders  were  used  in  England  a  hundred  years 
before,  by  the  opera  singers.  And  we  read  that  wigs 
of  all  colors  were  in  use  in  the  good  old  days  of  Queen 
Bess.  We  also  catch  glimpses  of  cues  all  along  from 
the  period  of  the  Reformation;  to  say  nothing  of  the 
old  painting  in  which  St.  Peter  figures  with  one.  Yet 
it  appears  that  the  greatest  enormities  of  the  kind  did 
not  have  their  turn  till  Queen  Anne's  time. 

Dr.  Tyndale  appeared  a  little  vain  in  the  matter  of 
dress.  He  wore  yellow  breeches  tied  at  the  knees  by 
tasty  red  ribbons,  and  a  bob-tailed  green  coat,  which 
he  always  kept  buttoned  so  tightly  that  the  loops  broke 
out  in  rebellion  against  the  strain  put  upon  them.  An 
enormous  white  collar  fell  over  the  green  one  of  his 
coat,  resembling  an  ancient  lady's  vandyke.  Long 
scarlet  stockings  and  leather  shoes,  with  the  toes 
turned  up  like  skate-irons,  and  kept  well  black-balled, 
adorned  his  nether  extremities.  And  jauntily  upon 
his  head  sat  a  round  topped  hat,  with  which  the  sport- 
ive winds  were  continually  playing  pranks. 

As  to  the  parentage  of  Dr.  Tyndale  we  are  able  to 
state  very  little.  Whether  he  could  trace  his  gene- 
alogy in  a  direct  line  to  William  Tyndale  the  celebrated 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.        335 

reformer  and  martyr  who  had  the  honor  of  producing 
the  first  English  version  of  the  New  Testament,  we  do 
not  know,  but  presume  he  could ;  for  any  one  can 
trace  his  pedigree  to  just  about  the  point  he  desires. 
The  pretty  family  trees  that  we  sometimes  see  mod- 
estly fruiting  in  parlors  prove  this.  But  we  do  not 
mean  to  insinuate  that  the  Doctor  ever  undertook  to 
so  trace  his  lineage;  probably  he  did  not;  for  doctors, 
as  all  know,  are  remarkable  for  their  modesty. 

Many  people  seem  to  think  that  all  Avho  go  through 
the  same  course  of  study  must  turn  out  equal  in  scho- 
larship. And  judging  Dr.  Tyndale  by  this  rule  he  was 
very  learned  for  he  went  through,  at  Harvard  college, 
the  same  course  with  the  most  eminent  men  in  the 
colony.  But  judging  by  a  rule  that  takes  capacity 
into  account,  we  might  be  forced  to  a  different  conclu- 
sion regarding  his  accomplishments.  "VVe  do  not  mean, 
however,  to  intimate  that  he  was  not  worthy  of  high 
respect ;  for  though  not  among  the  most  prominent  in 
his  profession,  he  was  yet  above  the  average. 

The  Doctor  was  very  active,  traveling  hither  and 
thither  on  his  en-ands  of  mercy  with  great  rapidity, 
sometimes  on  horseback  with  saddle-bags  of  medicines, 
and  sometimes  on  foot  with  a  knapsack  of  the  same 
strapped  to  his  back.  His  practice  was  extensive,  at 
least  so  far  as  territory  was  concerned,  and  various. 
He  was,  of  course,  both  surgeon  and  physician.  And 
he  even  turned  his  hand  to  farriery  when  occasion  re- 
quired, though  in  this  latter  branch  he  had  so  man}' 
rivals  among  the  farmers  who  were  ambitious  to  be 
ranked  as  professional  men,  that  he  could  not  shine 
with  any  great"  brilliancy. 

Few  of  Dr.  Tyndale's  patients  had  reason  to  com- 
plain of  his  neglecting  them.     Indeed  what  physician 


336  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

can  be  charged  with  neglecting  patients  ;  at  least  those 
of  the  paying  class?  Sympathy  for  those  in  affliction, 
if  not  a  positive  sense  of  duty,  prompted  him  to  more 
than  ordinary  care  and  attention.  He  had  a  feeling 
heart,  soothing  manners,  and  a  high  appreciation  of 
fees.  His  medicines  were  prescribed  in  large  quanti- 
ties, as  was  the  custom  of  the  times.  And  by  his 
good  nature  and  pleasant  talkativeness,  he  did  much 
to  keep  the  spirits  up  while  the  drugs  went  down. 
He  trotted  the  sick  children  on  his  knee,  and  told 
them  pretty  stories  of  good  boys  and  girls  who  loved 
to  take  the  sweet  medicines  that  he  brought.  And 
the  older  folk  gulped  down  rivulets  of  his  nauseous 
concoctions,  made  palatable  by  an  infusion  of  what 
is  metaphorically  a  product  of  the  good  wife's  leach 
tub.  None  had  a  happier  way  of  flattering  than  he, 
and  none  had  a  higher  appreciation  of  its  effects. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  cures  ever  effected  in 
the  human  system  occurred  in  the  practice  of  Dr. 
Tyndale ;  and  by  omitting  an  account  of  it  we  should 
leave  even  this  bi'ief  notice  greatly  defective. 

Aaron  Rhodes  lay  very  sick  of  a  painful  disease,  the 
nature  of  which  does  not  precisely  appear,  though 
from  the  accounts  we  judge  it  to  have  been  some  sort 
of  a  bronchial  abscess.  It  had  rapidly  enlarged  and 
there  was  imminent  danger  of  suffocation.  Tiie  Doc- 
tor perceived  that  unless  the  internal  gathering  were 
speedily  broken  death  must  ensue.  But  how  to  break 
it  was  a  question  that  all  his  ingenuity  could  not  solve. 
The  crisis  was  fast  approaching,  and  the  worthy  man 
was  very  greatly  exercised  not  only  in  regard  to  his 
professional  reputation,  for  it  really  seemed  as  if  there 
were  no  imperative  necessity  for  the  man's  dying,  but 
also  from  grateful  esteem  for  the  patient,  who  had 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       337 

befriended  him  in  various  ways.  He  was  constant  in 
his  attendance,  and  manifested  his  anxiety,  now  by 
gazing  down  the  afflicted  throat;  now  by  walking  the 
floor  at  a  nervous  pace,  with  his  head  down  and  his 
cue  pointing  up  and  shivering  under  his  agitation ; 
and  then  by  pausing  to  rub  and  press  the  patient  ex- 
ternally, in  the  neighborhood  of  the  gathering.  But 
all  his  efforts  seemed  incompetent  to  avert  a  fatal  ter- 
mination. 

Late  on  a  Sunday  evening,  we  find  the  sick  chamber 
presenting  this  tableau :  The  sufferer  lies  upon  the 
bed,  with  an  uneasy  struggling  for  breath.  The  Doc- 
tor sits  in  an  arm  chair,  before  the  fire,  with  his  legs 
stretched  out  and  afi'ectionately  crossed.  His  beloved 
cue  projects  back,  over  the  little  table  that  stands 
behind  his  chair,  with  its  array  of  medicine  cups  and 
phials  forming  a  body-guard  to  the  tallow  candle,  the 
radiance  of  which  would  be  greatly  augmented  by  the 
friendly  offices  of  the  snufflsrs  that  glisten  in  their  little 
lackered  tray  upon  the  mantle.  The  prim  nurse  sits 
nodding  on  one  side  of  the  fire,  and  upon  the  other, 
curled  on  the  cushion  of  the  easy  chair,  reposes  the 
gray  house  cat,  occasionally  arousing  for  a  moment  to 
gape  and  stretch  and  then  returning  to  her  sleep. 
Almost  perfect  silence  reigns.  There  is  no  wind  with- 
out, and  the  fire  does  not  crackle,  for  the  Rhodes  fam- 
ily burn  peat.  The  hard  breathing  of  the  patient 
alone  is  heard.  The  Doctor  himself  soon  begins  to 
feel  drowsy  and  nod.  And  nod  foflows  nod  in  accele- 
rated succession.  Finally,  there  comes  one  backward 
bow,  so  forcible  as  to  bob  the  end  of  the  cue  directly 
into  the  flame  of  the  candle.  And  thereupon,  0  horror 
and  mystery,  there  comes  such  a  terrific  explosion  as 
almost  shakes  his  little  head  from  his  shoulders.  The 
0  22 


338  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

darling  cue  is  blown  all  to  pieces  and  sent  flying  in 
singed  tufts  into  every  corner  of  the  room. 

The  Doctor  bounded  across  the  chamber  with  the 
agility  of  a  shot  kangaroo,  his  elbow  dashing  through 
the  window  and  his  head  bending  the  metal  sash.  Then 
he  skipped  up  and  down,  shrieking  and  with  his  hands 
working  his  head  every  way  as  if  endeavoring  to  be 
sure  that  it  were  still  in  the  place  where  it  grew.  The 
nurse  and  cat,  by  a  process  that  neither  of  them  at- 
tempted to  explain  found  themselves  in  a  safe  position 
beneath  the  bed. 

But  how  fared  the  sick  man?  lie  had  eminent  cause 
to  rejoice  under  the  fulfillment  of  the  good  old  apho- 
rism that  every  wind  blows  good  to  some  one.  How 
shall  we  express  our  joy  for  him?  When  the  strange 
explosion  took  place,  he  happened  to  be  lying  with  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  fated  cue  as  it  curiously  bobbed 
back  and  forth,  seemingly  at  some  tantalizing  game 
with  the  candle.  And  it  appeared  to  him,  as  he  lay 
there  watching,  so  much  as  if  the  candle  when  it  got 
a  chance  to  retaliate  for  some  teasing  movement  of 
the  cue",  had  given  a  snap  that  resulted  in  more  than 
it  intended,  that  he  could  not  restrain  a  burst  of  im- 
moderate laughter.  And  that  laughter  saved  his  life. 
And  many  a  hearty  laugh,  before  and  since,  has  done 
as  much  good.  It  broke  the  abscess  ;  and  after  a  little 
strangling  from  the  escaping  contents,  he  Avas  relieved 
and  at  once  beyond  danger.  And  he  continued  to 
moderately  indulge  in  the  healthful  exercise  till  his 
complete  recovery ;  and  indeed  to  the  end  of  his  life, 
Avhenever  the  scene  of  that  night  came  to  mind ;  the 
Doctor  himself  not  refusing  occasionally  to  join  in  hia 
cachinnation,  as  they  talked  the  matter  over.  These 
occasions,  however,  were  liable  to  end  in  sadness,  for 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       339 

the  Doctor's  hand  would  instinctively  stray  to  the 
barren  waste  where  once  flourished  the  object  of  his 
idolatry  whose  loss  had  been  mourned  over  with  a 
bitterness  not  exceeded  in  intensity  by  any  dispensa- 
tion from  his  saddle-bags. 

But  the  cause  of  the  destructive  explosion  Avas  a 
profound  and  alarming  mystery  for  some  time.  There 
seemed  no  possible  way  to  account  for  it.  If  it  should 
prove  that  the  Doctor's  head  were  something  like  a 
charged  bomb-shell  and  liable  to  explode  at  any  time, 
it  would  be  dangerous  to  have  him  about.  But  still 
there  was  no  authority  for  his  restraint.  People,  how- 
ever, immediately  began  to  appear  shy  of  meeting  him, 
and  some  of  his  patients  forthwith  sent  word  that  they 
felt  so  much  better  that  he  need  not  come  again  till 
sent  for.  And  the  calls  for  his  errands  of  mercy  and 
profit  became  alarmingly  infrequent. 

The  extraordinary  occurrence  was  of  course  soon 
known  far  and  near.  And  it  was  interesting  to  listen 
to  the  man}'  theories  that  were  propounded  in  elucida- 
tion. The  one  suggested  by  Mr.  Shepard  seemed  the 
most  scientific,  proceeding  on  the  supposition  that 
thunder  and  lightning  might  exist  in  the  human  head, 
in  a  dormant  condition.  And  indeed  it  must  be  a 
stupid  head  that  has  not  some  electricity  in  it.  But 
people  were  not  then  so  scientific  as  they  now  are,  for 
Franklin  was  not  born.  Had  they  possessed  the  know- 
ledge that  soon  after  electrified' the  world  it  is  not 
unlikely  that  they  would  have  insisted,  for  the  security 
of  human  life,  that  Dr.  Tyndale  should  wear  a  lightning 
rod  down  his  back. 

But  the  mystery  was  finally  solved.  The  Doctor 
and  his  good  wife  were  one  evening  sitting  at  the 
supper  table,  partaking  of  their  frugal  meal  and  pleas- 


340  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

antly  talking  over  the  events  of  the  day.  Presently 
something  recalled  with  special  force  to  their  minds 
that  unexplained  catastrophe  the  memory  of  which  had 
continued  to  hang  like  a  dead  weight  upon  them.  All 
of  a  sudden  the  Dame  dropped  her  spoon,  which  was 
just  then  drawing  near  to  her  mouth,  laden  with  lus- 
cious pan-pie.  Her  eyes  protruded,  her  countenance 
assumed  a  strange  expression,  and  she  began  to  strug- 
gle in  the  attempt  to  articulate  something.  The  Doc- 
tor sprang  towards  her,  thinking  that  she  was  choked. 
But  she  soon  recovered  herself  and  pushing  him  aside 
told  him  to  sit  down  and  she  would  unburden  herself. 
The  good  man  had  before  experienced  what  she  was 
pleased  to  call  unburdening  herself  and  did  not  antici- 
pate much  comfort.  Nevertheless,  he  meekly  seated 
himself  with  open  ears. 

Dame  Tyndale  now  began  by  asking  the  Doctor  if 
he  did  not  remember  bidding  her,  while  she  was  dress- 
ing his  cue,  on  the  fatal  day,  to  give  it  a  good  powder- 
ing. He  replied  that  he  did  so  bid  her,  for  he  expected 
to  go  to  Boston  to  a  doctors'  meeting.  She  then  looked 
him  straight  in  the  eye  for  something  like  two  min- 
utes. Her  gaze  was  reciprocated.  And  it  would  have 
rejoiced  any  philosopher  to  observe  the  dawn  and  radi- 
ation of  intelligence  as  they  appeared  on  those  serene 
countenances,  marking  as  they  did,  with  great  strength 
and  beauty,  the  distinctions  between  man  and  the  gra- 
ven image.  The  talismanic  word  powder  had  power 
to  explode  the  whole  mystery. 

The  worthy  Dame  had  never  before  that  day  pow. 
dered  the  Doctor's  cue,  and  when  called  to  the  duty 
had  no  conception  that  the  dredging-box  instead  of 
the  powder-horn  should  be  resorted  to  for  material. 
In  her  simplicity  she  had  managed  to  work  into  the 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       341 

cue  such  a  quantity  of  gunpowder  as  would  have 
probably  blown  his  head  to  atoms  had  not  a  conside- 
rable portion  worked  itself  out  during  the  day. 

Through  that  comical  agency,  however,  the  cure  of 
Mr.  Rhodes  was  effected.  And  had  Dr.  Tyndale  pos- 
sessed the  sagacity  of  some  of  the  profession,  without 
their  honesty,  he  would  probably  have  taken  advantage 
of  the  accident,  and  insisted  that  the  whole  was  a  plan 
of  his  own  to  effect  the  cure.  In  that  case  he  might 
have  been  canonized  for  his  wit  if  not  for  his  skill. 

Those  accustomed  to  worship  in  our  modern  sanctu- 
aries, with  richly  carpeted  floors  and  cushioned  seats, 
can  hardly  form  a  just  conception  of  the  discomforts, 
as  they  would  appear  to  be,  to  which  the  worshipers 
in  the  Old  Tunnel  were  exposed.  Bare  floors  below 
and  bare  rafters  above  met  the  gaze  of  those  who 
assembled  there.  The  wild  winds  of  winter  whistled 
and  squealed  at  the  rattling  windows,  and  often  suc- 
ceeded in  the  mischievous  enterprise  of  powdering 
the  worshipers'  heads  with  snow.  Within,  there  was 
no  fire  to  set  at  naught  their  chilling  effects ;  and 
warm  must  have  been  the  hearts  that  could  keep  beat- 
ing through  the  long  drawn  discourses.  The  heavy 
galleries  hung  gloomily  upon  three  sides ;  and  the 
cheerful  sun  found  it  hard  work  to  illuminate  much  of 
the  hallowed  space. 

Above  the  lofty  pulpit  hung  the  ponderous  sound- 
ing board,  capacious  enough  to  concentrate  the  vocal 
eccentricities  of  the  most  airy  rhetorician ;  and  on 
which,  as  Amy  Martin  declared  fi-om  information  de- 
rived from  the  old  lame  man  who  carried  the  book 
with  blood-red  leaves,  the  witches  held  an  adjourned 
meeting  during  a  dreadfully  tempestuous  night  in  the 


342  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

ever  rnemorable  year  1692,  they  being  driven  from 
the  swamp  in  which  their  meetings  were  usually  held, 
by  a  great  overflow  of  water.  Considerable  alarm  was 
excited  by  this  information,  coming  througli  so  authen- 
tic a  channel.  Diligent  inquiry  and  search  took  place. 
But  the  most  certain  evidence  of  the  sacrilege  having 
been  committed  consisted  in  sundry  small  indentations 
apparently  burned  into  the  edge  of  the  board.  These 
were  thought  to  have  been  made  by  the  fingers  of  the 
witches  as  they  were  clambering  up.  But  Mister 
Oldpath  succeeded  in  convincing  the  most  considerate 
that  they  were  produced  by  the  sexton,  who  the  year 
before  undertook  to  destro}^  a  colony  of  wasps  that 
had  taken  up  their  quarters  in  a  crevice  above,  with  a 
blazing  pine  knot  attached  to  a  pole;  through  which 
cruel  act  he  came  near  burning  down  the  house  itself 
And  by  this  incident  we  are  reminded  to  present  a 
few  facts  connected  with  the  great  Witchcraft  outbreak. 
Take  whatever  view  we  may  of  the  strange  excite- 
ments of  that  memorable  year — 1692  —  they  cannot 
be  regarded  by  the  reflective  mind  in  any  other  light 
than  as  extraordinary  and  eminently  suggestive. 

Upon  a  gloomy  Sunday  afternoon  in  the  year  just 
named,  the  Old  Tunnel  Avorshipers  Avere  meekly  listen- 
ing to  one  of  Mr.  Shepard's  elaborate  discourses,  wlien, 
as  he  was  just  arriving  at  the  "  improvement,"  the 
whole  congregation  were  startled  by  fuiious  excla- 
mations from  a  girl  named  Nanny  Sealand. 

"Whist!  whist!  whew!"  she  -exclaimed,  jumping 
upon  the  seat  and  throwing  her  arms  about  in  a  vio- 
lent manner;  "Whist!  dost  not  see  upon  the  window 
by  the  pulpit  the  shadow  of  Goody  Bassett,  beckoning 
to  Nabby  Collins,  in  the  corner  there?     And  dost  not 


THE   OLD    TUNNEL    MEETING    HOUSE.  343 

see  the  book  she  hath,  with  blood-red  leaves  and  black 
boards?" 

At  this,  Nabby  Collins,  who  was  an  ignorant,  nerv- 
ous girl  of"  some  seventeen  winters,  sprang  up,  shak- 
ing and  twitching  as  if  an  earthquake  and  a  whirlwind 
were  experimenting  on  her,  both  at  the  same  time, 
and  wildly* snapped  out: 

"  Ay,  ay,  at  the  dogwood  swamp  it  is  !  There  's  the 
meeting.  You  told  me  so  before.  0,  I  '11  be  there. 
Red  bread  to  eat  and  red  drink  !  Devil's  sacrament ! 
I  '11  be  there,  when  the  black  dog  comes  to  show  the 
way.  He  '11  scratch  at  the  back  door  and  howl  on  the 
stepping-stone.  0,  whist,  whist,  minister  !  You  've 
said  enow,  and  lost  your  text !  See  there,  see  there  ! 
a  black  cat  sits  on  the  beam  above,  nursing  a  red- 
winged  mouse.     0,  stop,  minister!" 

And  by  the  time  she  had  uttered  her  incoherent 
exclamntions  her  excitement  had  become  frightful,  and 
she  fell  down  in  a  spasm.  Presently  recovering,  she 
trotted,  on  all  fours,  with  great  speed,  toward  the 
door.  But  those  about  her  having  by  this  time  in 
some  degree  regained  their  self-possession,  re-strained 
her  from  making  her  way  out. 

"  Great  God  preserve  us,"  ejaculated  Mr.  Shepard, 
"from  witchcrafts  and  other  of  the  Devil's  doings! 
It  verily  seemeth  that  the  vitals  of  God's  people  here- 
about are  straightway  to  be  torn  out  by  satanic  claws  !" 
And  he  uttered  a  heavy  groan,  piteously  expressive  of 
deep  apprehension. 

Without  the  "  improvement,"  the  services  were 
brought  to  a  close.  And  most  of  the  people  lingered 
about  the  doors  for  some  time,  with  gloomy  counte- 
nances, discussing  the  prognostics  of  the  approaching 
storm.     But  Master  Oldpath  was  there  and  endeavore(? 


344  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

his  utmost  to  suggest  to  the  minds  of  those  about  him 
such  common  sense  views  as  might  do  something  to- 
wards turning  the  tide  of  the  excitement  that  lie  knew 
must  ensue.  Perceiving  Mr.  Sliepard's  great  perplex- 
ity he  urged  him  to  at  least  do  nothing  to  increase  the 
apprehension  that  the  Devil  was  about  to  commence  a 
desperate  foray  upon  this  happy  Israel.  ''"For,"  said 
he,  *' if  these  in  truth  be  the  Devil's  doings,  God's 
people  will  best  show  themselves  by  not  owning  that 
he  hath  such  power.  If  pious  folk  come  to  think  that 
they  may  at  any  time  be  snatched  from  God's  hand  by 
the  Devil,  it  might  seem  that  the  Devil  hath  the  strong- 
est arm.  But  for  my  part,  I  do  not  believe  that  Satan 
hath  much  to  do  in  these  matters.  They  come  by 
frenzy  of.  mind  and  roguery."  And  the  sensible  old 
man  said  many  things  to  the  distressed  crowd,  calcu- 
lated to  allay  their  fears.  That  very  evening,  too,  he 
visited  the  afflicted  girls  and  gave  much  wholesome 
advice  to  those  who  had  them  in  charge. 

Perhaps  a  few  of  the  older  persons  now  living,  may 
remember  having  in  their  boyhood  seen,  firmly  nailed 
to  the  northwest  corner-board  of  the  Old  Tunnel,  as 
high  up  as  the  gallery  windoAv,  a  clumsy  horseshoe. 
It  was  almost  as  conspicuous  as  is  the  revolutionary 
cannon  ball  that  still  so  uniquely  adorns  the  front  of 
Brattle  street  meeting  house  in  Boston.  That  horse- 
shoe was  said  to  have  been  nailed  there  by  the  sex- 
ton—  whether  at  the  instance  of  the  watchful  Shep- 
ard  it  does  not  appear  —  some  time  during  the  week 
succeeding  the  events  just  detailed.  And  it  remained 
for  more  than  a  hundred  years.  The  reader  cannot  be 
ignorant  of  the  fact  that  horseshoes  were  early  dis- 
covered to  possess  the  power  of  keeping  witches  and 
other  evil  spirits  at  bay.     In  this  age  of  conceited  wis- 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       345 

dom,  however,  tliey  have  rather  fallen  into  disuse  for 
that  purpose. 

As  may  well  be  supposed,  the  excitement  spread  and 
things  soon  began  to  wear  a  threatening  aspect.  No 
time  was  to  be  lost  in  parleying,  and  Mr.  Oldpath,  with 
a  couple  of  others  of  like  way  of  thinking,  formed 
themselves  into  a  kind  of  examining  and  advisory  com- 
mittee, assuming  the  duty  of  inquiring  into  alleged 
cases  of  wilchcraft  as  tliey  might  occur,  expressing 
opinions  of  them  and  giving  advice.  They  had  not,  of 
course,  any  power  or  inclination  to  interfere  with  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  courts,  nor  indeed  to  act  in  any 
manner  on  formal  complaints.  But  by  judicious  man- 
agement in  their  circumscribed  sphere,  great  good 
was  accomplished  ;  calamities  and  distresses  of  divers 
kinds  were  averted,  and  no  doubt  innocent  lives  saved. 

Some  strange  cases  came  before  them. 

Jediali  Breed,  a  drinking,  but  otherwise  fair  sort 
of  a  laboring  man,  stated  that  on  the  Friday  evening 
before,  he  was  seated  in  Rachel  Moulton's  back  room, 
about  dusk:  that  he  had  been  hard  at  work  during  the 
day,  cutting  and  splitting  wood  and  was  now  resting 
and  waiting  for  his  supper.  While  he  was  thus  Avait- 
ing,  and  Rachel  was  frying  the  meat,  there  came  down 
the  chimney  what  appeared  to  be  a  very  large  squirrel, 
having  a  head  like  that  of  a  monkey.  The  animal  sat 
himself  on  the  edge  of  the  frying-pan,  and  seizing  a 
piece  of  meat,  began  to  eat  it,  apparently  with  the 
most  ravenous  appetite,  regardless  of  its  fiery  heat  or 
the  flames  around  him.  The  astonished  chopper  very 
much  wondered  at  what  he  saw,  not  only  because  of 
the  animal's  power  to  endure  heat,  but  also  because 
squirrels  were  never  known  to  take  such  food.  Ra- 
0* 


346  KOTABLE   THINGS. 

chel  took  no  notice  of  the  intruder,  though  she  stood 
by  the  fire.  And  upon  his  expressing  astonishment  at 
her  blindness,  she  declared  that  there  was  nothing 
there  and  that  no  meat  was  missing;  that  four  pieces 
were  put  in,  and  four  remained. 

Jeddy  told  tlie  committee,  when  they  came  to  exam- 
ine upon  the  point,  that  he  greatly  Avondered  at  Ra- 
chel's denying  that  she  saw  the  animal,  for  he  was  at 
that  very  moment  before  her  eyes  ;  and  he  could,  more- 
over, hear  his  teeth  snap  as  he  bit  the  meat.  But  he 
did  not  count  the  pieces  remaining  in  the  pan  ;  nor  did 
he  know  how  many  were  put  in  at  first. 

He  further  stated  that  as  Rachel  was  spreading  the 
dishes  on  the  table  the  animal  leaped  upon  her  shoulder, 
and  he,  being  greatly  terrified,  seized  a  birch  stick  that 
lay  at  hand  and  endeavored  to  give  the  intruder  a  smart 
blow.  But  he  was  too  quick  for  him  and  dodged  he 
knew  not  whither.  And  he  saw  him  no  more.  But 
Rachel  was  greatly  oifended,  declaring  that  she  saw 
no  squirrel  nor  felt  anything  but  the  blow,  which  she 
deemed  insulting,  and  such  as  none  but  a  drunken 
man  would  inflict  on  a  lone  woman.  It  was  not,  how- 
ever, till  they  were  seated  at  the  table  that  the  con- 
viction was  forced  upon  him  that  Rachel  was  an  enter- 
tainer of  evil  spirits.  From  the  appearance  of  the 
upper  portion  of  her  dress  he  was  convinced  that  the 
imp,  having  eaten  his  supper  in  the  guise  of  a  squirrel, 
bad  gone  to  rest  in  her  bosom. 

The  good  sense  of  Mr.  Oldpath  and  his  associates 
at  once  discovered  that  the  wonders  described  by 
the  besotted  wood-chopper  originated  in  a  sudden  at- 
tack of  what  is  now  known  as  a  merry  sort  of  delirium 
tremens.  Ho  was  closely  questioned  regarding  his 
recent  drinking  habits  and  obliged  to  own  up  to  much 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       347 

that  he  would  rather  have  concealed.  Finally,  Mr. 
Oldpath  turned  upon  him  with  such  a  lecture  as  he 
was  very  glad  to  hear  the  conclusion  of,  and  ended 
by  advising  him,  with  marked  emphasis,  to  say  no 
more  about  the  atfair,  or  he  might  get  to  the  stocks 
for  drunkenness  and  the  whipping-post  for  assaulting 
Rachel. 

And  he  prudently  took  the  advice. 

Ruth  Chase,  a  young  woman  who  lived  with  Eli 
Chadwell,  witnessed  some  occurrences  that  came  near 
producing  very  great  excitement.  The  committee 
called  on  her  to  learn  her  story,  and  f(L)und  her  quite 
ready  to  communicate  the  facts  on  which  her  dreadful 
suspicion  rested ;  which  suspicion  was  that  she  had 
seen  tlie  veritable  black  man,  the  Devil  himself.  It 
was  early  on  a  Monday  morning.  She  had  jumped 
from  her  bed  and  drawn  aside  the  window  curtain,  to 
determine  the  aspect  of  the  weather,  as  it  was  the 
family  washing  day.  The  first  object  that  caught 
her  attention  was  a  tall,  muscular  black  man  —  though 
when  closely  questioned  she  would  not  affirm  that  he 
was  black,  as  it  occasionally  seemed  as  if  he  wore  a 
short  black  veil  —  coming  out  of  the  woods  at  a  quick 
pace.  He  had  on  a  long  gray  jacket  with  huge  but- 
tons, and  nmple  breeches  with  eel-skin  knots,  as  they 
appeared  to  be,  at  the  knees.  On  his  head  was  a  three- 
cornered  hat.  She  could  not  distinguish  his  feet,  but 
an  hour  or  two  after  went  out  and  examined  the  ground 
and  could  find  nothing  but  cloven  tracks.  Tliese,  how- 
ever, she  admitted,  on  a  rigid  cross-examination,  might 
have  been  made  by  the  cows  as  they  came  from  pasture 
the  night  before,  though  they  seemed  more  rounded 
thiin  cow  tracks.     In  his  mouth  was  a  long  clay  pipe, 


348  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

from  which  ho  now  and  then  blew  sparks,  which  flew 
about  like  little  blue  stars,  convincing  her  that  there 
was  brimstone  in  the  atmosphere.  He  had  a  bundle 
under  his  arm,  done  up  in  a  red  handkerchief.  And 
from  the  shape  of  the  bundle  she  thought  it  was  a  big 
book  —  the  book  of  witch  records.  She  had  heard 
that  the  witches  held  a  meeting  the  night  before,  it 
being  Sunday,  in  the  North  Swamp,  and  supposed  he 
had  been  there  with  the  records.  He  went  up  by 
Mr.  Tarbox's  barn  and  struck  three  blows  on  the  wea- 
ther-board with  his  crooked  walking  stick.  Presently 
Goodwife  Tarbox  came  to  the  door,  and  they  talked 
together  for  a  few  minutes.  He  then  handed  her 
something  from  the  bundle,  and  disappeared.  She 
verily  believed  that  he  gave  her  the  book  to  sign,  or 
some  bread  that  was  left  at  the  witches'  sacrament 
held  in  the  swamp.  In  closing,  Ruth  reluctantly  ad- 
mitted that  she  had  a  little  grudge  against  Dame  Tar- 
box on  account  of  a  difficulty  regarding  a  clothes-line. 

During  this  recital,  Mr.  Oldpath  himself  seemed 
possessed  in  some  unnatural  way,  insomuch  that  his 
associates  began  to  fear  that  he  was  suddenly  becoming 
a  victim  of  the  black  art.  He  jerked  round,  and  eyed 
the  narrator  with  a  most  comical  scrutiny.  Then  his 
eyes  glistened,  and  he  seemed  much  put  to  it  to  restrain 
a  violent  explosion  of  some  kind  or  other. 

Cut  Ruth  having  ended,  he  sat  quietly  for  a  few 
moments  as  if  ruminating  on  the  remarkable  affair. 
And  then  the  explosion  came,  sure  enough ;  it  was 
terrific ;  but  no  damage  was  done  as  the  element  was 
laughter.  The  others,  though  they  loved  to  see  him 
in  such  a  joyful  exercise,  could  not  join  with  him,  for 
they  did  not  know  what  he  was  laughing  at.  And 
they  began  to  be  more  and  more  alarmed  at  the  accu- 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       349 

mulating  evidence  that  he  was  bewitched  or  getting 
beside  himself  in  some  way.  At  length  he  gained 
power  to  vociferate : 

"  Ruth  Chase,  if  your  eyes  had  been  rightly  open 
you  would  have  seen  no  wonders.  You  ought  to 
have  known  that  it  Avas  me,  yes,  me,  Ezekiel  Oldpath, 
whom  you  took  to  be  the  Devil.  Look,  now,  see  if 
I  may  not  pass  current  for  a  white  man,  and  if  my  feet 
would  make  cloven  tracks?  look,  look!"  and  up  went 
an  enormous  hide-shodden  foot  to  the  table  top.  ''  On 
that  morn  I  took  my  kine  to  pasture  at  an  earlj'-  hour, 
and  did  indulge  myself  with  a  pipe  by  the  way.  See- 
ing mushrooms  plentiful  I  did  gather  some  into  my  red 
handkerchief,  and  on  my  way  home,  spying  Goodwife 
Tarbox  in  her  doorway,  gave  her  not  only  a  pleasant 
morning  salutation  but  some  of  the  dainties.  As  to 
what  you  say  about  striking  the  barn  I  know  nothing 
save  that  while  near  there  I  descried  what  I  took  to 
be  a  weazel  and  struck  at  him  with  my  walking  staff. 
One  of  the  flaps  of  my  hat  got  loose  two  or  three 
times  and  fell  forward  in  a  way  somewhat  detrimental 
to  my  eyes ;  and  you  must  have  made  the  black  veil 
out  of  that  poor  cloth." 

It  is  easy  to  understand  what  the  conclusion  of  that 
examination  must  have  been. 

Increase  Carnes,  a  middle  aged  man  who  lived  on 
the  same  street  with  Mr.  Shepard  —  Petticoat  L:ine,  as 
it  was  afterward  called  —  and  whose  bushy  head  cer- 
tainly did  not  contain  an  unusually  large  amount  of 
sense,  was  sorely  vexed,  on  several  occasions,  by 
unseen  assailants.  He  was  present  at  the  meeting 
house  at  the  time  Nanny  Sealand  made  her  strange 
demonstrations,  and  was  observed  to  exhibit  consid- 


350  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

erable  excitement.  He  started  up  from  his  seat  in  the 
western  gallery,  and  after  describing  certain  mystic 
figures,  in  the  air,  with  his  arms,  violently  thrust  his 
hands  into  his  pockets,  and  hastened  out  of  meeting, 
grunting  and  groaning  by  the  way. 

The  particular  transactions  which  he  detailed  to 
Mr.  Oldpath  and  his  associates,  took  place  at  his 
shop.  He  was  a  shoemaker,  and  worked  in  a  rough 
little  structure  that  stood  near  the  site  of  the  present 
City  Hall.  On  Tuesday  evening  he  went  to  his  work, 
after  supper,  as  usual.  It  was  very  dark,  and  the  sleet, 
driven  by  a  northeast  wind,  was  almost  blinding.  The 
first  thing  he  did  after  entering  the  shop,  was  to  grope 
round  for  his  tinder-box  and  matches.  And  while  do- 
ing so,  he  was  several  times  startled  by  what  he  imag- 
ined to  be  whisperings  and  suppressed  laughter.  And 
he  thought  his  fingers  Avere  now  and  then  snapped  at 
by  sharp  teeth.  They  were  also  badly  pricked,  as  if 
awls  had  been  thrust  into  them ;  and  he  showed  sev- 
eral fresh  wounds  in  confirmation  of  his  statement. 

Having  found  his  tinder-box,  he  was  much  put  to  it 
to  strike  a  light,  for  the  tinder  had  become  damp ; 
whereat  he  much  wondered,  as  it  was  carefully  cov- 
ered. However,  he  finally  caught  the  faintest  spark, 
which  he  was  leaning  over  and  carefully  nursing  with 
his  breath,  when  a  leather  scrap,  coming  with  great 
force,  hit  the  box  and  overturned  the  whole  into  the 
shop  tub.  He  was  terribly  frightened;  but  being  en- 
couraged by  hearing  the  footsteps  of  some  one  passing 
the  shop,  and  momentarily  expecting  a  neighbor  for  a 
job  of  work  which  he  had  finished  just  before  going  to 
supper,  he  gathered  courage  to  search  for  the  tinder- 
box  of  a  shopmate.  This  he  found,  and  presently  had 
his  candle  lighted,  and  a  fire  blaziug  in  the  little  fire- 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       ool 

place  in  the  corner.  But  his  wood  was  green  and  he 
could  not  induce  it  long  to  lend  its  virtuous  aid  in 
cheering  up  the  dirty  domain.  He  punched  the  liissiug 
sticks,  laid  up  the  brands  and  blew  upon  tliem  as  well 
as  he  could  through  his  almost  toothless  gums.  But 
all  to  little  purpose.  In  ten  minutes  the  last  spark 
seceded  and  the  brave  little  tallow-dip  was  all  that 
remained  to  war  against  the  cold  and  darkness.  He 
placed  it  in  a  wooden  socket,  and  by  his  crane-like 
fixture  swung  it  out  in  front  of  his  seat,  into  a  posi- 
tion to  shed  most  light  upon  his  work. 

Having  made  these  preparations,  Carnes  took  off  his 
jacket  and  sat  down  to  work.  He  continued  to  hear 
occasional  whispering  and  tittering,  and  began  moi-e 
and  more  to  fear  that  some  sort  of  witchcraft  was 
brewing.  Nevertheless,  he  determined  to  tough  it 
out,  at  least  till  the  expected  neighbor  called,  for  he 
had  some  pride  in  the  matter,  having  been  taunted 
as  a  coward.  But  he  could  not  avoid  peering  about  the 
shop,  as  well  as  he  was  able  to  by  the  aid  of  his  dim 
light,  as  he  now  and  then  fancied  that  he  heard  rustling 
or  squeaking  noises.  In  the  back  part  of  the  shop  was 
a  small  space  divided  off  by  a  barricade  of  fire-wood, 
a  heap  of  scraps,  and  a  couple  of  cider  barrels.  But 
he  could  not  muster  courage  to  venture  an  exploration 
in  that  suspicious  territory.  As  he  sat  busily  at  work, 
however,  his  heart  began  gradually  to  revive.  And 
hearing  persons  occasionally  pass  near  the  window,  he 
finally  gained  such  heart  as  to  whistle  a  psalm  tune 
and  mentally  bid  defiance  to  the  Avhole  army  of  devils. 

How  long  he  remained  in  this  comfortable  state, 
whistling  and  working,  it  did  not  appear,  but  all  of  a 
sudden,  a  gust  of  wind,  coming,  as  it  appeared  to  him, 
jQrom  the  roof,  instantly  extinguished  his  candle,  and 


352  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

left  liim  in  total  darkness.  At  tlie  same  time  lie  heard 
a  horrible  scratching  and  scrambling  about  the  cider 
barrels.  And  then  lie  seemed  verily  to  become  the 
sport  of  a  legion  of  merciless  devils.  The  leather 
scraps  flew  about  his  head  as  if  driven  by  a  furious 
whirlwind,  hitting  him  on  every  exposed  part  with  a 
force  that  made  him  dance  in  agony.  Then  he  was 
seized  by  the  arras  and  shoulders  and  twitched  about 
in  a  manner  that  almost  forced  his  joints  asunder,  his 
unseen  tormentors  laughing  all  the  while  as  if  greatly 
enjoying  the  sport.  He  was  so  terrified  that  he  had 
no  power  either  to  resist  or  make  an  outer}',  and  had 
but  slight  expectation  of  surviving  the  assault. 

As  a  sort  of  closing  operation,  he  was  forced  down 
again  upon  his  seat,  and  there  compelled  to  undergo 
a  kind  of  rough  shampooing.  Paste  and  wax  were 
worked  into  his  hair,  scraps  crowded  down  his  back, 
and,  worst  of  all,  dirty  water  from  the  shop  tub  was 
poured  down  his  throat  b}'  the  clam-shell  full.  There 
is,  indeed,  no  knowing  how  the  violence  would  have 
ended  had  not  the  expected  neighbor  arrived.  The 
moment  that  the  door  latch  was  raised,  his  tormentors 
ceased  their  operations  and  disnppeared. 

The  neighbor  fortunately  had  a  lantern.  Carnes  was 
found  in  a  deplorable  condition.  But  he  was  not  cut 
or  bruised.  His  hair  and  beard,  however,  were  com- 
pletely matted  with  wax  and  paste.  Under  repeated 
assurances  that  he  was  not  wounded,  and  had  only, 
from  appearances,  been  the  victim  of  some  of  the 
younger  devils  who  were  out  on  a  frolic,  he  revived, 
and  was  soon  able  to  go  home,  under  convoy. 

Early  the  next  day,  Carnes  was  for  starting  off  in 
great  haste  to  make  formal  complaint  to  the  court 
against  a  decrepit  old  woman  living  on  Nahant  street, 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       6b6 

called  Patty  Allen,  as  being  the  witch  who  sent  the 
evil  spirits  upon  him.  She  had  from  some  cause  be- 
come obnoxious  to  her  neighbors,  and  was  almost 
friendless.  Being  of  violent  temper  she  was  prodigal 
of  threats,  and  during  an  altercation  with  Carnes,  a 
day  or  two  before,  had  warned  him  to  look  out  for  a 
shower  of  something,  but  of  what,  he  could  not  under- 
stand, as  she  just  then  slammed  the  door  in  his  face ; 
but  he  thought  it  might  have  been  a  shower  of  scraps. 
At  all  events,  such  a  shower  had  come,  and  he  natur- 
ally connected  the  threat  with  the  event. 

Mr.  Oldpath  happened  to  fall  in  with  Carnes  just  as 
he  was  starting  on  his  errand  to  the  judicial  dignitaries, 
and  was  so  struck  by  his  appearance  that  he  paused  to 
ask  what  disaster  he  had  met  with.  The  poor  fellow 
was  bare-headed,  though  the  morning  was  chilly,  for 
he  was  afraid  to  put  his  hat  on  lest  he  should  never 
get  it  off  again;  and  his  countenance  wore  a  most 
rueful  expression.  Mr.  Oldpath  listened  to  his  story, 
and  finally  convinced  him  that  the  better  way  would 
be  for  the  committe*  first  to  investigate  the  matter,  as 
thereby  the  witchcraft  might  perhaps  the  more  surely 
be  fixed  upon  the  old  woman. 

No  time  was  lost  in  getting  the  committee  together, 
and  the  examination  was  held  in  the  shop  where  the 
dark  doings  took  place.  Gideon  Spinney,  an  aged 
man  who  resided  in  the  neighborhood,  hearing  of  what 
was  going  on,  hastened  to  the  shop,  and  found  the 
three  Solomons  in  great  perplexity.  The  testimony 
had  all  been  given  in,  and  they  saw  no  rational  means 
by  which  to  explain  away  the  convictions  of  the  recipi- 
ent of  the  supposed  satanic  favors.  But  Mr.  Spin- 
ney, as  soon  as  he  had  got  breath  and  attended  to 
Lis  nose,  suggested  that  he  was  able  to  state  some 

23 


354  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

things  that  might  throw  light  on  the  affair,  and  went 
on  to  say  that  the  evening  before,  at  about  tiie  time 
(yarnes  judged  the  assault  to  have  taken  place,  he  was 
passing  along  the  road,  and  as  he  approached  the  shop 
saw  a  young  rogue  making  his  egress  from  the  back 
window,  followed  by  two  others.  Whether  they  ob- 
served him  or  not  he  was  uncertain  ;  but  they  immedi- 
ately dodged  over  the  stone  wall.  He  was  near  to 
them  at  one  time,  but  attempted  no  pursuit,  knowing 
that  they  could  easily  outrun  him.  He  however  over- 
heard one  of  them  say,  "  By  Jericho,  ha'  n't  we  had  fun 
with  the  mouldy  old  coward.  Let  him  jaw  my  lame 
mammy  agin  and  call  her  a  witch.  H'  he  does,  there 
will  be  another  shower  of  scraps,  like  as  not,  and  may- 
hap thunder  too.  He  '11  have  to  comb  his  old  pate  and 
wash  his  face  now,  if  so  be  't  his  monthly  scrubbiu' 
time  ha'  n't  come  round.  I  hope,  though,  we  ha'  n't 
hurt  his  old  carcase  much." 

The  ancient  manuscript  from  which  the  foregoing  is 
derived,  is  too  much  defaced  at  its  conclusion  to  ad- 
mit of  being  deciphered.  But  if  can  easily  be  imag- 
ined how  the  case  terminated. 

Mr.  Old  path  and  his  associates  continued  on  tlieir 
way,  examining  into  the  alleged  cases  of  witchcraft  as 
they  occurred  in  the  neighborhood.  And  they  found, 
at  every  step,  so  much  that  was  explicable  on  natural 
principles,  so  much  that  was  clearly  tlie  fruit  of  appre- 
hensive and  strongly  imaginative  minds,  and  so  much 
that  was  chargeable  to  downright  roguery,  that  they 
were  more  and  more  encouraged  to  proceed.  And  to 
their  judicious  action  is  perhaps  to  be  attributed  the 
freedom  of  the  place  from  the  grosser  features  of  the 
"  lively  demonstrations  of  hell,"  as  Mather  called  them. 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       355 

It  is  thought  that  Mr.  Oldpath  had  great  influence 
in  opening  the  eyes  of  Judge  Sewall,  as  he  visited  him 
several  times ;  and  on  the  occasion  of  the  general 
fast,  made  memorable  as  that  on  which  the  Judge 
stood  in  penitential  attitude  before  the  congregation 
at  the  OJd  South  meeting  house  in  Boston,  while  his 
expurgatory  paper  was  read,  no  one  pronounced  a 
louder  or  more  heart-felt  amen  than  he. 

The  Mathers,  and  Chief  Justice  Stoughton  found  in 
our  worthy  townsman  a  resolute  defender  of  the  un- 
fortunate, and  soon  learned  the  expediency  of  not 
unnecessarily  coming  in  collision  with  him.  But  it 
would  be  unfair  to  assume  that  Mr.  Oldpath  was  en- 
tirely exempt  from  the  belief  that  such  a  thing  as 
Witchcraft  may  have  existed.  That  would  be,  as  it 
were,  to  unchristianize  him,  considering  the  universal 
belief  of  the  christian  world  at  that  period.  Yet, 
whatever  his  belief  may  have  been,  it  is  certain  that 
he  was  zealous  in  searching  out  the  abominable  cheats, 
and  ceaseless  in  his  efforts  to  allay  the  excitement. 
Nor  would  it  be  fair  to  assume  that  even  a  majority 
of  the  cases  could  be  explained  as  easily  as  those  we 
have  given.  Some  seemed  entirely  inexplicable  on 
any  known  principle.  And  it  was  a  note-worthy  re- 
mark of  a  late  eminent  jurist  that  had  he  been  upon 
the  bench  he  could  not  have  avoided  pressing  a  con- 
viction on  the  evidence  presented  in  several  cases. 

Man}'  attempts  have  been  made  to  designate  a  suflS- 
cient  cause,  aside  from  any  thing  supernatural,  for  this 
extraordinary  outbreak,  known,  the  world  over,  as  the 
New  England,  or  the  Salem,  Witchcraft  —  the  AVitch- 
craft  of  1G92.  The  peculiarly  trying  situation  of  the 
colonists,  at  the  period  immediately  preceding,  has 
been  much  dwelt  upon,  as  having  been  influential  in 


M 


NOTABLE  THINGS. 


preparing  the  public  mind  for  such  an  excitement. 
That  certainly  was  a  most  dark  period  in  our  liistorj. 
The  broad  land  Avas  still,  to  a  great  extent,  overshad- 
owed by  the  ancient  forest.  The  Indians  had  been 
engaged  in  a  desperate  effort  to  rid  the  land  of  the  pale 
faced  intruders.  And  to  their  wily  and  ruthless  war- 
fare had  been  added  French  bravery  and  skill.  That 
dreadful  conflict- known  as  Philip's  war,  commenced  in 
1675.  The  red  men  fought  with  a  desperation  that 
could  only  characterize  the  death  struggles  of  a  brave, 
proud  nation ;  a  ration  which  indeed  passed  away 
over  blood-stained  snows  and  amid  the  glare  of  blazing 
habitations.  Six  hundred  of  the  flower  of  the  colonial 
soldiery  fell ;  six  hundred  dwellings  were  consumed. 
But  the  disasters  of  the  "swamp  fight,"  sealed  the  fate 
of  the  red  men.  There  was  no  one  left,  M'orthy  to 
bear  tlie  mantle  of  the  heroic  Philip.  In  1G90  the 
French  and  Indian  war  raged.  And  the  ferocity  of 
the  leading  parties  was  not  mitigated  by  their  mutual 
professions  of  being  followers  of  the  Prince  of  Peace. 
The  political  affairs  of  the  colonists,  too,  had  for  a 
long  time  worn  a  gloomy  aspect.  The  colonial  char- 
ters were  annulled  in  1684.  And  in  1686,  Sir  Edmond 
Andros  commenced  his  oppressive  administration. 

They  were  indeed  trying  times.  And  the  poor  col- 
onists might  almost  have  been  justified  in  the  imagina- 
tion, that  having  been  so  long  exposed  to  the  rough 
usages  of  men,  without  being  subdued,  they  were  now 
to  have  some  experience  under  the  tender  mercies  of 
devils.  But  yet,  viewing  the  matter  in  the  serious 
light  that  it  deserves,  one  would  hardly  think  that 
political  or  warlike  agitations  had  much  to  do  with 
opening  the  way  for  such  an  excitement  as  Witchcraft; 
particularly  as  the  occult  shadow  brooded  over  regions 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       357 

where  such  agitations  were  not  known.  It  would> 
indeed,  seem  as  if  such  disturbances  in  temporal  affairs 
might  have  a  tendency  to  divert  the  mind  from  those 
views  of  spiritual  affairs  that  appear  necessary  to  pro- 
duce such  an  excitement.  Our  whole  country  is  at  this 
moment  laboring  under  an  agitation  most  terrific.  The 
flair  of  secession  is  unfurled,  the  lurid  clouds  of  civil 
war  have  burst;  hundreds  of  thousands  of  those  who 
one  year  since  recognised  each  other  as  of  the  same 
happy  brotherhood  are  now  arrayed  in  opposing  war- 
liive  ranks.  A  season  of  unspeakable  peril  and  distress 
has  suddenly  overtaken  the  glorious  Union  formed  un- 
der our  common  fither,  the  sainted  AVashington.  God 
alone  knows  what  will  follow  this  upheaving;  but  happy 
should  we  be  if  we  could  rationally  fear  no  greater  ca- 
lamities than  those  of  1692.  Wc  are  reminded  of  our 
remark  on  page  121,  and  must  say  that  the  ship  has 
reached  the  breakers  rather  sooner  than  anticipated. 

Does  it  not  appear  more  likely  that  the  "Delusion" 
had  its  origin  in  the  favorite  conceit  of  our  ancestors 
that  their  shining  piety  had  moved  the  evil  one  to 
make  special  efforts  for  their  destruction? 

Some  intelligent  minds,  however,  will  contend  that 
the  Witchcraft  manifestations,  call  them  ultramundane 
or  not,  were  such  manifestations  as  may  take  place  as 
strictly  in  accordance  with  some  law  as  any  event  in 
the  natural  world.  The  law  may  be  past  finding  out, 
but  our  ignorance  cannot  preve'nt  its  operation.  The 
earth,  in  its  progress  in  space,  may  pass  through  a 
region  of  meteors,  astonishing  and  alarming  the  inhab- 
itants. And  so,  they  reason,  may  be  the  course  in 
spiritual  things;  —  at  certain  points  spirits  may  be  dis- 
cerned, and  their  influence  felt;  and  we  may  be  called 
to  experience  many  things,  startling,  wonderful  and  ap- 


358  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

parently  supernatural,  but  yet  the  results  of  immu- 
table hidden  laws. 

When  the  Witchcraft  spell  broke,  the  minds  of  the 
people  underwent  a  reaction  quite  as  remarkable  as 
any  thing  connected  with  the  strange  affair.  It  is  a 
sad  subject,  but  presents  features  wortliy  of  the  grave 
consideration  of  christian  and  philosopher.  In  almost 
every  age  there  is  an  eruption  that  astonislies  and 
terrifies  the  world.  But  in  not  many  cases  are  we 
forced  to  turn  to  the  supernatural  in  forming  an  esti- 
mate regarding  them,  for  men's  passions  and  evil  ten- 
dencies are  sufficient.  The  progress  toward  these 
eruptions  may  often  be  traced.  Sometimes  it  is  slow, 
almost  imperceptible  ;  and  sometimes  it  is  like  the 
raging  of  the  prairie  fire. 

Ghmce,  for  instance,  at  the  infidelity  of  France ; 
watch  the  working  of  the  sweet  poison  thrown  into 
the  body  politic  in  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury ;  see  how  like  a  subtile  disease  it  fixes  upon  the 
vitals ;  how  by  cunning  and  varied  appliances  it  ulti- 
mately reaches  every  class,  circulates  in  every  vein ; 
and  then,  moulded  by  the  ambitious  for  selfish  and 
depraved  ends,  and  urged  on  by  calm,  inflexible  en- 
ergy, like  that  of  a  Buff'on  or  a  Condillac;  by  allure- 
ments like  those  of  a  Rosseau  or  a  Voltaire  ;  by  daring, 
ferocious  impiety  like  that  of  a  Diderot,  see  it  burst 
forth  in  such  a  whirlwind  as  overwhelms  with  fierce 
destruction,  peace  on  earth,  trust  and  hope  in  heaven. 
Then  were  the  sunny  banks  of  the  Loire  made  pestilent 
by  the  dissolving  remains,  and  the  waters  made  red 
and  warm  by  the  gushing  blood  of  innocence.  Then 
the  ghosts  of  the  betrayed  and  sacrificed  wanderod 
among  the  smouldering  ruins  of  fallen  temples  and 
altars,  and  wept  for  desecrated  household  fanes.     And 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.        359 

this  was  just  one  century  after  tbe  distractions  in  New 
England. 

Was  there  not  something  quite  as  unaccountable  and 
quite  as  horrible  in  the  French  Reign  of  Terror  as  in 
the  New  England  Witchcraft?  And  are  there  not 
eminently  useful  lessons  to  be  drawn  from  moral  earth- 
quakes such  as  these  ?  By  watching  the  gathering 
elements  fearful  dangers  may  often  be  averted. 

In  the  third  range  from  the  pulpit,  in  the  Old  Tun- 
nel, was  the  seat  of  the  venerable  Deacon  Mudget. 
lie  was  always  seasonably  at  his  post,  though  he  lived 
nearly  two  miles  distant.  It  was  said  —  and  greatly 
to  liis  praise  —  that  he  was  never  known  to  close  his 
eyes  during  the  services,  however  protracted  or  sopo- 
rific they  might  be.  And  he  was  noted  for  his  deter- 
mined opposition  to  everything  wearing  the  semblance 
of  indecorum  within  the  sacred  precincts.  Indeed  he 
seems  to  have  been  a  sort  of  high  church  Puritan.  It 
is  tlie  excellent  trait  just  alluded  to  that  we  wish  to 
illustrate,  nnd  shall  at  once  proceed  to  relate  an  occur- 
rence which  in  its  time  made  considerable  stir. 

We  have  already  had  occasion  in  these  pages  to 
celebrate  the  proverbial  peacefulness  and  good  beha- 
vior of  church  choirs.  But  all  rules  admit  of  excep- 
tions. And  it  would  not  be  remarkable  if  once  in  a 
century  or  two,  members  of  a  choir  should  be  betrayed 
into  some  slight  exhibition  of  jealousy,  ill-nature,  or 
other  small  indiscretion. 

The  choir  at  the  Old  Tunnel  had  unwarily  slidden 
into  the  reprehensible  practice  of  taking  sweetmeats 
and  fruit  to  meeting,  wherewith  to  regale  themselves 
while  resting  from  tlieir  arduous  labors,  secure,  as 
they  thought  themselves  to  be,  from  the  observation 


360  KOTABLE   THINGS. 

of  those  below,  behind  the  gallery  breastwork.  But 
Deacou  Mudget  was  not  unapprised  of  their  wrong- 
doing's. And  his  massive  mind  was  for  one  whole 
Saturday  night,  while  watching  with  Aarun  Rhodes, 
deeply  exercised  in  devising  means  to  remedy  the  evil. 
So  lost  was  he,  about  midnight,  in  his  reflections,  that 
he  stirred  the  sick  man's  dose  with  the  snuffers  instead 
of  the  spoon,  and  did  not  discover  his  error  till  the 
patient  began  to  strangle  with  the  greasy  motes.  13ut 
he  finally  hit  upon  a  plan  sure  to  attain  his  object. 

Near  the  meeting  house  was  a  tree  of  delicious 
pippins,  just  then  in  their  prime,  on  which  the  mem- 
bers of  the  choir  had  not  unfrequently  cunimitted 
depredations.  And  as  the  Deacon  went  to  meeting, 
the  next  day,  he  just  balanced  his  pocket  with  one  or 
two  of  the  apples  —  the  great  good  to  be  accomplished 
probably  in  his  mind  outweighing  the  small  sin  of  the 
appropriation.  With  the  fruit  in  his  pocket  he  entered 
the  house  and  took  his  seat  among  the  singers.  They 
were  astonished  to  see  him  there  though  he  was 
known  to  be  a  good  singer.  He  was  a  little  eccentric, 
they  were  well  aware,  but  none  doubted  that  he  had 
come  among  them  for  a  good  purpose.  Soon  after 
the  sermon  commenced,  however,  they  were  taken  all 
aback  on  seeing  him  draw  a  pippin  from  his  pocket, 
pare,  and  begin  to  cut  it  into  small  slices,  now  and 
then,  with  unflickering  gravity,  bestowing  a  morsel 
upon  his  own  expectant  palate. 

Presently  he  generously  handed  to  all  the  others, 
pieces  to  satisfy  their  watering  mouths.  And  there- 
upon every  pair  of  jaws  in  the  choir  were  in  motion. 
But  the  first  breath  had  hardly  been  drawn  when  it 
became  difficult  to  draw  another.  The  facial  contor- 
tions on  every  side  were  extraordinary  if  not  exactly 


THE   OLD   TUNNEL   MEETING   HOUSE.  361. 

picturesque.  The  poor  singers  writhed  and  rocked 
from  side  to  side,  their  mouths  frothing-  and  their  eyes 
rolling  in  fine  frenzy.  Every  one  but  the  Deacon  was 
evidently  suffering  some  horrible  agony.  He,  good 
man,  sat  calm  as  a  summer  morning,  champing  his  pip- 
pin, with  eyes  i-everently  directed  pulpitward.  Soon, 
however,  tlie  agony  of  the  choristers  reached  such  an 
unendurable  pitch  that  they  simultaneously  started 
from  their  seats,  hawking,  spitting,  strangling,  retch- 
ing, and,  in  more  than  one  instance,  even  taking  the 
«tep  beyond. 

The  minister  stopped  short,  and  the  whole  meeting 
was  in  an  uproar.  If  the  witchcraft  excitement  had 
not  subsided  long  before  this,  they  would  at  once 
have  concluded  that  the  Devil  had  concocted  the  mis- 
chief. Finall}^  things  reached  such  a  pass  that  the 
Deacon  felt  himself  called  upon  to  explain.  He  came 
to  the  front  of  the  gallery  and  witli  a  sort  of  fugitive 
gravity  playing  upon  his  countenance,  went  on  to  say 
that  he  had  long  mourned  over  the  undevotional  hab- 
its of  the  singers,  and  to  the  end  that  he  might  renew 
their  sense  of  duty,  had  procured  a  quantity  of  dragon 
root,  which  he  had  distributed  among  them  leading 
them  to  suppose  that  it  was  apple.  And  he  hoped 
that  the  lesson  they  had  received  would  have  the  de- 
sired effect.  Probably  the  reader  knows  what  dragon 
root  is.  But  if  he  does  not,  he  may  be  informed  that 
it  is  a  root  so  intensely  pungent,  that,  if  gathered  at 
a  particular  season  and  from  a  particular  location,  cay- 
ennt)  pepper  is  more  soothing  to  the  palate.  The 
worthy  Deacon  had,  with  monstrous  cuiming,  mad© 
the  distribution  in  such  a  sleight-of-hand  way  that  no 
one  suspected  his  pious  fraud. 

The  good  man  immediately  left  the  company  of  the 
P 


362  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

singers,  or  even  the  sanctity  of  the  place  might  not 
have  saved  him  from  broken  bones.  But  tlie  very 
ludicrousness  of  the  thing  had  a  tendency  to  restore 
some  of  the  sufferers  to  good  humor. 

The  matter  seemed  to  pass  off  without  such  mani- 
festations of  resentment  as  might  naturally  have  been 
expected.  Nevertheless,  it  turned  out  that  on  a  dark 
night,  some  time  after,  there  was  a  great  outcry  in  the 
road  that  passed  by  the  house  in  which  the  leader  of 
the  choir  lived.  And  by  a  strange  coincidence,  that 
very  evening  there  happened  to  be  assembled  there 
all  the  female  members  of  the  choir;  while,  by  another 
coincidence,  quite  as  remarkable,  all  the  male  members 
happened  to  be  absent. 

When  the  outcry  took  place,  as  if  by  a  single  im- 
pulse, all  the  girls  rushed  to  the  windows.  And  instead 
of  manifesting  terror,  as  womankind  oi'dinarily  Avould, 
at  what  was  evidently  a  most  riotous  proceeding,  they 
vigorously  clapped  their  hands  and  actually  screamed 
with  laughter. 

The  rioters  had  in  their  midst  a  venerable  looking 
individual,  mounted  on  a  substantial  cedar  rail.  He 
seemed  very  much  friglitened,  expostulated,  remon- 
strated and  begged  for  quarter,  in  a  voice  greatly 
resembling  that  of  Deacon  Mudget. 

Among  the  first  pews  set  up  in  the  Old  Tunnel  — 
for  they  were  not  all  set  up  at  the  same  time  —  was 
that  of  Henry  Jetson.  It  was  a  little  west  of  the  cen- 
tre of  the  house,  well  toward  the  pulpit,  and  quite 
convenient  for  his  deaf  mother.  No  pew  was  more 
constantly  occupied  or  more  attractive.  It  was  hand- 
somely fitted  up  in  the  style  of  the  times.  But  the 
chief  attraction  was  Nora  Humphrey',  a  ward  of  Mr. 


THE  OLD  TUXNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       363 

Jetson.  Her  beautiful  face  and  tasty  attire  drew  the 
attention  of  many  worshipers  ;  for  at  that  time,  the 
devotions  of  some  were  liable  to  be  divei'ted,  as  tiiey 
even  now  are,  from  the  Invisible  to  the  visible,  espe- 
cially when  the  latter  appears  in  the  shape  of  a  beauti- 
ful woman. 

Nora  was  not  a  native  of  Lynn ;  nor  did  she  long 
reside  here.  She  was  from  Enghind ;  but  had  spent 
some  years,  before  coming  here,  with  relatives  in  Bos- 
ton. She  was  of  a  good  family  and  had  been  disci- 
plined in  all  that  rendered  a  young  lady  in  those  times 
accomplished.  And  as  she  possessed  a  rnind  that 
readily  accommodated  itself  to  life's  vicissitudes  and 
sought  for  happiness  in  every  position,  with  a  deep 
love  for  the  beautiful  and  romantic  in  nature,  she 
found  her  situation  here  especially  congenial.  We 
well  remember  hearing  a  virtuous  grandam  speak  of 
her  grandmother's  relating  how  the  bi-ight-eyed,  laugh- 
ing girl,  with  ros}'  cheeks,  and  dark  curling  hair  flow- 
ing from  beneath  her  fashionably  trimmed  French 
bonnet,  was  accustomed  to  trip  into  the  western  door 
of  the  sacred  edifice,  by  the  side  of  the  good  Mr. 
Jetson,  But  we  had  always  supposed  that  much  fic- 
tion was  woven  with  the  traditions,  till  confirmation 
of  their  truth,  in  the  main,  was  found  among  the  old 
writings  before  alluded  to,  which  furnish  so  much  of 
the  more  local  portion  of  this  history. 

It  will  not  be  wondered  at  that  Nora  soon  possessed 
more  than  the  friendship  of  youth  of  the  other  sex. 
Yes,  it  appears  that  in  more  than  one  bosom  she  had 
kindled  a  spark  which  a  gracious  smile  would  have 
roused  to  a  flame. 

Among  the  most  devoted  of  her  admirers  was  Charles 
"Wilson,  a  youth  of  much  promise.     And  he  appeared 


864  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

to  stand  foremost  in  her  regard.  lie  was  her  compan- 
ion in  the  evening  walk,  her  gallant  at  the  social  gath- 
ering. And  as  months  passed  without  any  occurrence 
to  disturb  their  close  intimacy,  it  was  considered  by 
tlie  village  gossips  as  settled  that  the  day  was  not 
distant  when  a  union  would  take  place. 

As  things  were  thus  proceeding,  Lucy  Wilson,  a 
twin  and  very  dear  sister  of  Charles,  upon  a  pleasant 
evening  unexpectedly  called  on  Nora.  She  found  her 
seated  alone,  near  an  open  window,  absorbed  in  the 
perusal  of  a  letter. 

Of  the  interview  between  these  two  young  ladies, 
which  proved  so  sad  a  prelude,  we  have  found  an 
account  embodied  in  a  letter  written  by  Lucy  herself 
to  a  female  fiiend  who  appears  to  have  been  visiting 
in  a  distant  part  of  the  colony.  And  from  this  letter 
we  extract  as  follows: 

"  Presently,  as  Nora  perceived  me,  she  sprang  from 
her  seat,  and  in  a  right  merry  tone  bade  me  welcome, 
exclaiming,  in  joyful  words,  that  she  had  good  news ; 
that  the  letter  which  she  held  in  her  hand  had  been 
brought  by  the  Indian  Runner  who  received  it  at  the 
ship  which  had  that  morning  arrived  at  Boston.  She 
said  that  it  was  from  her  betrothed,  and  urged  her 
to  prepare  speedily  to  depart  for  Old  England,  for  he 
would  presently  come  to  America,  and  return  with 
her  as  his  b/ide  to  settle  on  his  Lincolnshire  estates. 

"  At  this  I  was  greatly  astonished  and  disturbed, 
never  having  heard  that  she  even  had  a  lover  any 
where  abroad.  But  recovering  myself,  and  fancying 
that  she  might  be  only  essaying  a  merry  jest,  I  did 
assure  her  that  thus  jesting  was  not  seemly,  and  was 
little  relished  by  brother  Charles ;  for  he  had  many 
times  gravely  chidden  me  for  my  foolish  gayety  with 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       365 

"William  Tarbell.  But  she,  observing  my  concern, 
assured  me  that  she  spake  but  the  plain  truth;  that 
she  indeed  had  been  betrothed  ever  since  she  first 
came  hither. 

"A  sense  of  the  great  disappointment  that  I  saw 
was  in  store  for  my  dear  brother,  falling  heavily  upon 
me,  I  replied,  with  emotion  that  I  could  not  restrain, 
that  if  she  indeed  spake  the  truth,  and  were  espoused 
to  one  away,  her  retrospect  should  be  any  thing  but 
pleasant;  for  she  had  deceived  my  brother,  deceived 
me,  deceived  us  all. 

"  With  sobs  and  strong  protestations  she  declared 
her  innocence  of  all  intention  to  deceive.  Thoughtless, 
she  said  she  might  have  been,  but  not  wicked.  And 
she  fell  upon  my  bosom  weeping  as  if  her  poor  little 
heart  would  break.  She  begged  that  I  would  forgive 
her  great  error,  which  now  arose  like  a  dark  mountain 
before  her  opening  eyes.  And  she  entreated  me,  in 
words  bespeaking  great  agony,  to  intercede  with 
Charles,  that  he  also  might  forgive.  And  to  God,  she 
said,  she  would  that  night  fervently  pray  for  remis- 
sion. My  heart  was  stirred  with  pity,  notwithstanding 
her  grievous  wrong ;  and  I  endeavored  to  speak  words 
of  comfort.  She  now  clearly  saw  her  error,  she  said, 
though  while  the  favored  recipient  of  his  courtesies 
she  had  been  involved,  as  it  were,  in  a  pleasant  mist 
that  soothed  her  soul  and  veiled  her  eyes.  I  Avas, 
indeed,  cut  to  the  very  heart,  and  could  only  withdraw 
in  silence,  bestowing  my  last  kiss  upon  her  f lir  fore- 
head. And  on  my  way  homeward  I  held  sad  commu- 
nion with  my  own  heavy  heart,  seeking  for  the  best 
means  by  which  to  make  known  to  my  dear  brother 
the  sorrowful  news." 

"Without  making  further  extracts  we  may  add  that 


366  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

the  uni)k'asant  facts  soon  became  known  to  every 
village  gossip.  And  the  beautiful  Nora  was  much 
censured.  She,  however,  while  suffering  many  painful 
hours,  persisted  in  the  declaration  that  she  never  in- 
tended to  deceive.  And  no  doubt  it  was  so.  Her 
offence  proceeded  from  thoughtlessness. 

The  Indian  Runner  who  had  brought  the  letter  from 
the  ship,  seemed  in  some  mysterious  way  to  consider 
himself  implicated  in  the  affair.  He  had  been  much 
attached  to  the  Jetson  family,  particularly  to  Nora, 
who  had  received  from  his  hand  many  a  nosegay  of 
rare  forest  flowers,  and  given  him  some  coveted  return 
from  her  store  of  trinkets.  But  this  occurrence  seemed 
to  make  a  strange  impression  on  him.  He  made  sev- 
eral visits  to  a  young  laborer  in  the  service  of  Mr. 
Jetson,  whom  he  in  true  Indian  style  designated  as 
Pitchy  Sam,  and  held  serious  talks  with  him,  in  the 
wood  yard  or  corn  field.  At  the  close  of  the  last 
interview,  he  exclaimed  with  an  energy  of  voice  un- 
common for  an  Indian: 

"  Ugh,  ugh  !  Pitchy  Sam  !  Me  say  she  be  wicked  ! 
she  ouglit  to  die  ! " 

A  short  time  passed,  and  the  youth  to  whom  Nora 
was  affianced  arrived  in  Boston.  It  was  soon  arranged 
that  the  nuptials  should  be  celebrated  in  that  town, 
and  that  the  wedded  pair  should  take  passage  in  a 
vessel  presently  to  sail  on  her  return  voyage. 

The  day  came  that  was  to  be  the  last  of  Nora's  resi- 
dence in  Lynn.  The  night  came  that  was  to  be  the 
last  whose  shades  would  darken  around  her  pillow  in 
her  loved  rural  retreat.  She  had  taken  an  affection- 
ate farewell  of  those  friends  who  had  for  the  last  time 
come  to  pay  their  respects,  and  was  now  alone  in  her 
chamber.     For  one  moment  she  buried  her  face  in  the 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       367 

vase  of  wild  flowers  upon  her  table,  whicli  had  been 
tendered  as  the  last  gift  of  the  Indian  Runner,  who 
had  visited  the  house  at  nightfall.  Then  she  knelt  and 
offered  up  a  fervent  prayer,  in  which,  we  may  be  sure, 
the  name  of  the  heart-sticken  Wilson  was  not  forgotten. 
And  then  on  her  pillow  she  souglit  repose  from  her 
alternate  feelings  of  happy  anticipation  of  the  future 
and  involuntary  pain  for  the  past. 

The  morning  sun,  whose  first  rays  were  wont  to 
awaken  Nora,  fell  unheeded  by  her  on  her  couch. 
Amazed  that  with  a  long  journey  and  a  great  event  in 
prospect,  she  had  not  risen  as  early  as  her  accustomed 
hour,  her  friends  entered  the  chamber.  A  swollen 
and  lifeless  form  was  all  that  remained  of  the  bright 
and  beautiful  one  whom  they  had  so  much  loved.  On 
her  bosom  lay  the  hideous  coils  of  a  venomous  reptile, 
his  fangs  still  piercing  her  inanimate  cheek. 

"She  ought  to  die!"  portentous  words  from  Indian 
lips  !  The  last  request  which  the  Indian  Runner  made 
of  Nora  was  that  he  might  be  permitted,  with  his  own 
hand,  to  place  upon  the  table  in  her  room  the  flowers 
he  had  brought,  saying  that  with  that  delicate  act  a 
medicine  man  had  connected  a  charm.  Unsuspectingly, 
his  request,  though  odd,  was  granted. 

The  people  of  Lynn  never  saw  him  after  that  fatal 
night. 

The  remains  of  Nora  were  deposited  in  the  Old 
Burying  Ground,  not  far  from  the  southeasterly  cor- 
ner. There  is  no  mark  by  which  to  distinguish  the 
grave.  The  beautifully  Avrought  stone,  placed  there 
by  the  sorrowing  youth  who  had  come  to  claim  her  as 
his  bride,  and  which  bore  the  single  word  ''  Nora,"  has 
long  since  disappeared;  neither  is  there  any  swell  in 
the  ground,  for  time  levels  all  things.     For  many  years 


868  KOTABLE    THINGS. 

the  summer  verdure  thereabout  was  trodden  doAvn,  for 
it  was  a  spot  to  which  the  village  maid  in  her  evening 
Gambles  would  resort  to  drop  a  tear  to  the  loved  and 
beautiful ;  a  tear  to  her  whose  verdant  resting  place 
has  now  been  refreshed  by  the  dews  of  more  than  a 
century  and  a  half 

And  a  few  paces  southward  from  Nora's  grave  is 
the  spot  where  was  lain  the  Aveary  head  of  Charles 
Wilson.  The  blighting  of  the  affections  of  his  warm 
heart,  the  clouding  of  his  sunny  hopes,  soon  brought 
him  to  a  bed  of  sickness.  And  hardly  had  the  white 
mantle  of  winter  been  spread  upon  her  grave  when  he 
was  released  from  all  his  earthly  sorrows  and  conflicts. 

The  lesson  involved  in  this  brief  relation  should 
not  be  unheeded  by  the  youth  of  either  sex.  The 
tender  affections  can  seldom  be  trifled  with  in  safety, 
notwithstanding  all  the  scoffing  and  philosopliizing  of 
the  cold  of  heart. 

If  it  be  unpardonable  cruelty  in  a  young  man,  when 
he  becomes  aware  that  the  affections  of  a  youthful 
being  of  the  other  sex,  have,  in  the  ever  deepening 
ardor  of  the  female  temperament,  been  directed  toward 
him  as  the  object  around  which  they  would  fondly 
entwine,  feeling  in  his  embrace  a  safeguard  against  the 
storms  that  sweep  across  the  path  of  lifo  —  if  it  be 
unpardonable  cruelty  in  him,  we  say,  to  encourage  the 
more  closely  drawing  of  those  tendrils,  with  the  guilty 
design  of  rutlilessly  sundering  them,  or  witli  the  per- 
haps equally  ropre-hensible  view  to  some  undcfinable 
present  gratification  —  is  it  not  also  unpardonable  cru- 
elty in  a  case  where  the  sexes  stand  in  a  reversed 
position? 

Are  there  frigid  worldlings  who  would  sneer  at  oc- 
currences like  this,  as  if  they  resulted  from  some  igno- 


THE   OLD    TUNNEL    MEETING    HOUSE..  369 

ble  principle  of  onr  common  nature?  Go  to,  un- 
sanctified  ones!  Are  not  you  in  love  —  some  with 
sordid  wealth,  some  with  childish  lionors?  And  are 
your  idols  more  worthy  of  true  and  holy  love  than  the 
sentient  and  glowing  images  of  your  Maker? 

Near  one  of  the  windows  on  the  south  side  of  the 
Old  Tunnel,  sat  Dame  Ramsdell,  the  light  of  her  mil- 
dewed and  strangely  furrowed  countenance,  always, 
excepting  by  fivor  of  a  point  blank  front  view,  entirely 
hidden,  if  not  literally  under  a  bushel,  certainly  under 
a  bonnet  of  such  dimensions  as  to  be  quite  competent 
to  contain  an  equal  measure.  This  bonnet  was  manu- 
factured by  her  own  industrious  hand  from  rushes 
gathered  in  the  meadows.  And  she  was  otherwise 
attired  in  an  ample  dress  of  tow  cloth,  the  manufacture 
of  the  same  industrious  hand.  A  capacious  pocket 
dangled  by  her  side,  often  crammed  with  sweetmeats 
for  good  children  and  herbs  and  ointments  for  sick 
men  and  Avoraen.  She  had  a  formidable  staff,  on  which 
she  relied  for  support  in  her  Avalks,  and  as  a  weapon 
of  offence  in  punching  giggling  girls  who  made  them- 
selves merry  over  her  infirmities  and  unfashionable 
appearance. 

This  worthy  dame  became  eminent  among  women, 
for  divers  reasons.  First,  she  had  been  the  smartest 
spinner  and  weaver  in  the  place.  Her  old  wheel 
whistled,  night  and  day,  and  the  amount  of  raw  mate- 
rial that  came  in  at  its  whistling  and  went  out  in  the 
shape  of  cloth,  might  have  put  to  blush  a  Rhode 
Island  water  mill.  Second,  she  was  greatly  skilled  in 
the  use  of  herbs.  Her  capacious  garret  was  a  vast 
depository  of  spoils  from  the  fields  and  woods,  and 
her   very   person    was    redolent   of   herby    perfumes. 


StO  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

Third,  she  was  the  mother  of  more  children  than  any 
dame  who  had  lived  in  the  place  from  the  beginning 
of  the  settlement.  These  she  found  useful  as  safety 
valves  for  a  naturally  warm  tem{)er,  as  models  on 
which  to  display  her  manufactures,  and  as  subjects 
on  which  to  experiment  with  her  herby  concoctions. 

Again,  she  had  bestowed  on  this  appreciative  com- 
munity the  inestimable  gift  of  Zephaniah  Ramsdell, 
who,  before  his  third  decade  was  passed  had  grown  to 
be  the  piide  of  men  and  pet  of  women.  Even  in  his 
very  early  days  Zephaniah  made  such  an  appearance 
as  indicated  that  he  possessed  a  rare  genius.  When 
he  accompanied  his  mother  to  meeting  he  was  dressed 
exactly  like  a  very  old  man,  having  a  broad  brimmed 
hat,  breeches,  with  eel-skin  knots  at  the  knees,  and 
enormous  shoe  buckles.  Upon  his  nose,  for  his  eye- 
sight was  a  little  imperfect,  were  mounted  a  pair  of 
huge,  round-glassed  spectacles,  which  an  ingenious 
neighbor  had  manufactured  for  him,  by  setting  a  cou- 
ple of  cheaj)  burning-glasses  in  a  leather  frame,  after 
grinding  down  their  convexity  and  polishing  them  as 
well  as  he  could. 

By  the  time  Zephaniah  was  a  dozen  years  old,  his 
genius  was  so  developed  as  to  excite  a  strong  interest 
in  the  observant  Dr.  Tyndale.  He  insisted  that  there 
should  not  1)e,  in  this  case,  another  of  those  mournful 
wastes  of  gifts  so  common  in  the  community:  that  the 
youth  should  be  put  to  study.  And  he  offered  his 
own  services  in  directing  the  toddling  feet  toward  that 
spring  of  which  the  poet  advised  to  drink  deep  or  taste 
not.  The  lad  was  soon  persuaded  to  grapple  manfully 
with  the  terrors  of  the  Latin  grammar.  And  such  suc- 
cess attended  his  struggles  that  he  was  speedily  prepar- 
ed to  knock  with  confidence  for  admission  at  the  front 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       371 

door  of  blessed  Harvard.  He  entered,  and  fur  some 
months  sustained  the  virtuous  pride  of  his  mother  by 
his  rapid  progress. 

There  are  some  things  beside  true  love  that  never 
do  run  smooth ;  and  Zephaniah  was  destined  to  be- 
come practically  acquainted  with  the  fact  before  his 
second  collegiate  year  closed.  He  was  one  day  sternly 
called  to  account,  by  the  venerable  president,  for  hav- 
ing taken  a  neighboring  damsel  on  a  sleigh  ride.  Not 
being  able  to  give  such  an  excuse  for  his  breach 
of  a  salutary  regulation  as  the  worthy  functionary 
could  appreciate,  he  was  forthwith  ordered  to  lay 
aside  his  loose  garments  and  prepare  for  a  whipping 
such  as  would  afford  a  fair  offset  for  the  enjoyment  of 
his  ride.  Thus  measured,  he  knew  the  punishment 
would  be  terrible.  But  he  submissively  disrobed,  and 
endured  the  flagellation  till  he  began  to  fear  that  his 
wounds  would  get  beyond  the  restorative  power  of 
even  his  mother's  most  choice  ointment.  He  then 
ventured,  in  a  modest  way,  to  remonstrate  against  any 
further  infliction.  But  his  remonstrance  was  as  little 
heeded  as  if  it  had  been  directed  to  the  plaster  bust 
that  adorned  the  shelf  above  their  heads.  The  blows 
continued  to  fall  thick  and  heavy.  And  there  is  no 
knowing  to  what  the  zeal  for  discipline  might  have  led 
had  not  a  desperate  blow  from  the  sledge-like  fist  of 
the  now  enraged  Zephaniah  knocked  the  classic  head 
of  his  superior  through  the  window. 

This  indignity  could  not  be  atoned  for.  Zephaniah 
was  expelled  in  disgrace,  and  trudged  home  on  a  cold 
winter  night  with  his  back  burdened  b}'  academic 
chattels  and  his  heart  burdened  by  regrets  and  em- 
bryo plans.  He  sat  himself  down  again  in  his  quiet 
home,  and  assisted  his  mother  in  her  multifarious  oc- 


3f2  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

cupations ;  became  a  little  misanthropic  and  dreamy; 
took  long,  solitary  walks  in  the  woods  and  on  the  sea- 
shore; Avrote  poetry,  of  course;  and,  in  short,  pursued 
the  same  track  that  a  genius  usually  does  under  such 
difficulties.  "We  have  come  across  a  number  of  poetic 
ecraps  apparently  from  his  pen;  and  must  say  that 
in  our  poor  judgment  his  proud  mother  was  not  far 
from  right  in  her  declaration  that  he  was  an  "  oncom- 
pion  rhymer."  We  have  a  suspicion  that  the  motto  in 
our  title-page  was  composed  by  him,  as  well  as  such 
of  the  other  mottos  as  are  in  the  same  style. 

Dr.  Tyndale's  interest  in  Zephaniah  continued.  He 
was  pleased  to  often  have  him  at  his  house.  And  it 
was  finally  arranged  that  he  should  enter  as  a  student 
of  medicine. 

Zephaniah  made  commendable  progress  in  his  studies 
and  became  more  and  more  a  favorite  with  his  patron. 

One  pleasant  day  a  professional  brother  rode  out 
from  Watertown,  to  visit  the  Doctor,  and  brought  his 
daughter,  a  blooming  lass,  with  him.  Zephaniah  was 
invited  over  to  sup  with  the  strangers.  And  who,  of 
all  people  on  earth,  should  those  strangers  turn  out  to 
be,  but  the  very  girl  who  was  his  companion  on  that 
unfortunate  sleigh  ride,  and  her  father.  The  two 
young  folk  were  soon  engaged  in  animated  conversa- 
tion and  the  tender  hearted  maiden  gave  all  but  tear- 
ful attention  to  the  recital  of  the  mishaps  that  had 
followed  their  contraband  enjoyment.  While  express- 
ing many  regrets  for  the  suffering  he  had  endured  she 
took  occasion  also  to  express  much  admiration  of 
his  bold  spirit  and  heroic  action  in  the  dark  hour  of 
the  flagellation.  And  in  some  mysterious  way  this 
interview  proved  initiatory  to  an  intimacy  that  occa- 
sionally drew  him  to  her  father's  house. 


THE   OLD   TUNNEL  MEETING    HOUSE.  373 

Whether  the  cunning  Dr.  Tyndale  bad  any  hand  in 
managing  the  affair,  we  cannot  ascertain  ;  but  are  able 
to  add  that  Zephaniah  and  Mary  were  presently  affi- 
anced, and  when  he  had  concluded  his  studies,  and 
Mary's  fatlier  Iiad  completed  arrangements  for  retiring 
from  practice,  tiiey  were  married.  The  happy  bride- 
groom entered  at  once  into  an  extensive  practice, 
beside  having  every  present  need  supplied  from  the 
ample  means  of  his  generous  father-in-law. 

So,  after  all,  the  flagellation  did  not  turn  out  to  be 
6o  very  disastrous   an  affair. 

And  herein  is  presented  another  instance  in  proof 
of  what  has  been  so  often  said  —  that  few  can  discover 
in  tlie  boy,  what  tlie  man  will  be.  Few,  indeed,  have 
the  disceriunent  of  a  Tyndale.  Zephaniah  himself 
could  not  have  lureseen  his  good  fortune,  even  by  the 
aid  of  those  unique  spectacles  that  formed  such  a 
dignified  addition  to  his  youthful  visage. 

It  appears  to  have  been  rather  a  common  thing, 
during  a  long  period,  for  individuals  to  sketch  down 
the  Sunday  sermons,  or  portions  of  them,  as  they  were 
delivered.  An  expert  had  little  difficulty  in  doing 
this,  as  the  manner  of  delivery  was  usually  very  «low 
and  the  enunciation  distinct.  The  manuscripts  were 
then  lent  around  among  those  who  were  too  infirm  or 
lazy  to  attend  meeting,  and  thus  became  effective  aids 
to  the  pulpit.  Not  that  the  preachers  of  those  days 
did  not  have  itching  eyes  to  behold  their  brilliant 
thoughts  in  print  —  so  different  were  they  from  the 
modest  clerical  brethren  of  this  day  —  but  printing 
was  too  expensive  a  luxury  to  be  indulged  in  on  any 
but  extraordinary  occasions.  There  were  no  parish 
or  Sunday  school  libraries,  and  few  books  of  religious 


STA  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

instruction,  in  circulation ;  and  the  contents  of  those 
few  were  so  famih'ar  that  these  sermons  possessed  a 
deh'ghtful  freshness. 

Most  of  the  specimens  that  we  have  discoverer!, 
have,  however,  proved  more  or  less  defective.  And 
some  are  so  purely  doctrinal  as  to  be  of  compara- 
tively little  interest.  But  from  one,  which  we  find  in 
so  neat  and  light  a  hand  as  to  induce  us  to  think  it  was 
written  out  by  a  female,  perhaps  after  having  been 
taken  down  by  some  one  else  in  rougher  stylo,  we 
must  be  allowed  to  make  a  few  extracts,  as  exhibiting 
something  of  their  miuiner  of  imparting  ghostly  in- 
struction, and  also  as  affording  aid  to  the  reader  in  his 
pious  reflections.  We  regret  being  unable  to  ascertain 
who  preached  this  sermon.  It  certainly  is  not  exactly 
in  Mr.  Shepard's  vein,  though  it  seems  to  have  been 
delivered  at  the  Old  Tunnel  during  the  early  part  of 
his  pastorate.  Joseph  Whiting,  a  son  of  the  beloved 
Samuel  who  so  long  ministered  to  the  society,  was 
settled  as  assistant  to  Mr.  Shepard,  some  two  years 
before  the  Old  Tunnel  was  built,  though  the  connection 
continued  only  a  short  time.  And  it  seems  to  us 
that  the  style  of  this  sermon  much  resembles  his.  But 
by  whomsoever  it  was  preached,  few  will  deny  the 
value  of  the  godly  hints  that  even  these  few  extracts 
contain. 

It  should  not  be  forgotten,  however,  that  a  great 
many  of  the  sermons  of  those  times  were  in  a  style 
very  different  from  this.  A  good  deal  of  the  doctrinal 
preaching  was  harsh  and  repulsive;  and  the  contro- 
versial, for  the  most  part,  exhibited  a  spirit  very  dif- 
ferent from  what  modern  worshipers  would  call  meek 
and  gentle.  With  the  single  remark  that,  considering 
the   ancient  mode   of  delivery,  the  discourse  would 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       375 

probably  have   occupied  full  an  hour  and  a  half,  we 
proceed  to  the  extracts : 

.  .  .  .  "  Behold,  how  beautiful,  in  this  delicious 
spring  time,  appear  tlie  blossoming  trees.  They  stand 
forth  arrayed  in  more  than  kingly  robes.  And  great 
is  the  promise  of  a  most  generous  bestowment  of  fruit 
in  due  season.  But,  alas,  how  often  do  the  fairest 
promises  fail.  Yea,  little  indeed  can  we  discern  from 
the  blossoming  what  the  fruit  will  be.  Without  con- 
stant care  and  watchfulness,  the  insidious  worm  may 
early  begin  his  deadly  work.  The  fiery  blight,  the 
nipping  frost,  the  parching  drought,  may  come  and 
blast  the  brightest  hopes.  And  so  is  it  with,  the  fair 
promises  of  youtli.'  Without  constant  care  and  watch- 
fulness, the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  Devil,  by  snares, 
allurements,  and  damnable  artifices,  may  corrupt  and 
destroy  all  that  is  beautiful  and  innocent.  Therefore 
do  I  fervently  exhort  all  to  watch  and  pray.  Watch 
against  the  stratagems  of  the  old  enemy;  pray  for  godly 
purpose  and  strength." 

.  .  .  .  "  Ah,  how  many  before  me  are  wont  to  esteem 
themselves  shining  pitchers  of  silver  in  the  tabernacle 
of  the  Lord,  full  of  precious  wine.  But  I  declare  unto 
you  that  in  the  sight  of  God  ye  are  all  lustreless  pew- 
ter pots,  battered  and  unseemly,  full  of  unwholesome 
and  bitter  water." 

.  .  .  .  "  Praise  is  very  pleasant  to  the  human  ear, 
and  multitudes  are  so  greedy  therefor  that  they  will 
even  bestow  it  on  themselves  without  stint.  But  one 
is  enlisted  in  a  far  less  worthy  service  while  prais- 
ing himself  than   while   striving  to  do   so   well  as  to 


376  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

command  the  praise  of  others.  By  riglitly  directed 
efforts  all  may  secure  the  sweet  meed  of  praise;  but, 
alas,  how  many  strive  to  magnify  themselves  in  the 
eyes  of  their  fellow  men  by  ways  that  proclaim  that 
they  would  use  virtue  only  as  a  stepping-  stone  to  the 
good  graces  of  those  about  them,  not  loving  its  own 
precious  self  False  ambition  ;  vain  strife  !  We  should 
all  do  our  best  with  the  talents  bestowed  upon  us.  He 
who  possesseth  but  few  talents  and  diligently  employ- 
eth  them,  is  more  worthy  of  praise  than  he  who  hath 
many  talents  and  doth  exercise  them  but  in  part,  even 
though  by  that  part  he  accomplisheth  more  than  the 
other.  Yea,  I  say  unto  you,  one  talent,  rightly  and 
diligently  employed,  telleth  more  for  the  glory  of  its 
possessor  than  do  ten  talents  for  the  sluggard.  And 
then  again  of  praise;  Avhat  profiteth  it  if  the  Avhole 
world  laud  and  magnify  thine  acts  if  they  be  not  acts 
that  thy  heavenly  father  will  approve  ?  " 

.  ..."  In  religion,  as  in  all  things  else,  zeal  may  be 
likened  unto  fire,  blind  and  unknowing  of  itself  If 
directed  by  a  true  love  to  God  and  man,  and  by  well 
tempered  judgment,  it  will  lead  to  the  holiest  accom- 
plishments. But  if  not  so  directed,  in  fierce  rage  it 
will  but  consume  and  destroy." 

.  ..."  Go  forth  into  the  fields.  And  there,  away 
from  the  angry  strife  and  vain  babblings  of  men,  and 
amid  the  beautiful  exhibitions  of  God's  handiwork, 
meditate.  Meditate  upon  thine  own  weakness  and  de- 
pendence ;  upon  the  good  providence  of  God,  thy 
duty  to  thy  fellow  men  and  to  thine  own  soul.  Medi- 
tate aright,  and  let  thy  meditations  rule  thine  acts. 
So  shalt  thou  bring  peace  to  thy  soul,  chasten  thine 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       377 

aspiration?,  and  make  thyself  of  more  devout,  unselfish 
spirit.  Ah,  yes  !  the  balmy  air  will  impart  vigor  to 
thy  body,  and  the  nobler  determination  sti-ength  to 
thy  soul.  Go  forth,  then,  in  the  gray  morn,  the  silent 
eve,  ami  amid  the  glorious  works  of  nature,  meditate 
and  enjoy." 

.  .  .  .  "  Christian,  beware  how  thou  entercst  the 
boundless  wilderness  of  the  law,  for  therein  grow 
many  thorns  and  briars  that  plague  and  damnify.  The 
very  air  is  full  of  temptation,  and  few  indeed  can  es- 
cape without  having  his  chi'istian  garment  torn  and 
bedniggled.  Just  though  thy  cause  may  be,  despe- 
rately uncertain  is  its  end.  Yen,  one  pound,  safe  in 
the  pocket,  is  better  than  three  in  the  law.'' 

.  .  .  .  "  Examine  thine  own  wa3's.  Dost  thou  there- 
in find  cause  to  despise  thyself?  If  thou  dost,  then 
be  assured  that  others  will  despise  thee.  But  and  if 
thou  wouldest  stand  well  in  the  e^'cs  of  others,  take 
lieed  that  thou  doest  nothing  that  seemelh  wrong  in 
thine  own  eyes." 

....  ''AVhat  is  more  unseemly  than  the  pretentious 
discourse  of  some  even  godly  men.  One  saith,  I  hold 
the  true  doctrine,  come  ye  to  my  faith,  or  stumble  in 
darkness.  But  how  knoweth  he  that  he  is  in  the 
true  faith?  He  diligently  searcheth  the  scriptures, 
perchance;  but  can  he  say  that  his  poor,  weak  mind 
is  sufficient  to  compass  the  whole  meaning?  He  treat- 
eth  the  Word  as  if  it  were  a  thing  of  man's  device,  and 
not  a  thing  standing  distinct  from  man  and  proceeding 
from  the  Infinite.  And  should  he  not  remember  that 
his  neighbor,  haply  as  wise  and  prayerful  as  himself, 


378  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

hath,  by  like  diligent  search,  come  to  a  different  stand  ? 
Ought  he  not,  then,  the  rather,  modestly  to  say,  such 
or  such  seemeth  to  me  the  true  doctrine?  But  and  if 
he  doth  not  even  get  his  doctrine  from  his  own  search, 
but  taketh  that  of  the  hou^elH)ld  of  faith  in  which  he 
was  nurtured,  he  but  receivoth  it  at  second  hand; 
and  if  they  that  taught  him  err,  where  is  his  reme- 
dy? Alas,  how  often  is  God's  holy  word  made  fool- 
ishness by  man's  interpretation." 

Near  the  southern  entrance  of  the  Old  Tunnel  was 
the  seat  of  Francis  Reddan.  What  little  hair  he  had 
was  ver}^  white.  lie  was  also  lame,  and  blind  of  one 
eye.  As  he  came  in,  his  broken  jaw  would  work  as  if 
he  fancied  him-ielf  delivering  an  exhortation,  though 
not  a  sound  issued  from  his  lips.  But  as  all  had  heard 
of  the  terrible  conflicts  that  occasioned  his  infirmities, 
not  a  symptom  of  mirth  agitated  even  the  most  thought- 
less breast. 

Mr.  Reddan  was  pious,  intelligent,  and  greatly  re- 
spected for  his  unwavering  neighborly-kindness.  He 
was  a  native  of  England,  and  born  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  renowned  Hampden.  Breathing  a  free  air,  and 
associating  with  unsubdued  spirits,  he  was,  while  still 
a  mere  boy,  famous  for  his  stern  opposition  to  every 
thing  that  savored  of  tyranny.  At  an  early  age,  he 
suddenly  left  his  father's  house,  joined  the  parliamen- 
tary army,  and  soon  gained  from  his  discriminating 
commander  such  acknowledgments  as  made  him  known 
among  the  valiant  hosts  as  a  brave  and  trusty  youth. 

At  the  battle  of  Worcester  he  received  his  first 
wound,  which  was  very  severe,  and  was  the  occasion 
of  that  erratic  working  of  the  jaw  just  alluded  to. 
But  this  grievous  experience  by  no  means  quenched 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       379 

his  ardor  for  battling  in  the  cause  his  conscience  ap- 
proved. He  continued  to  render  good  service  to  the 
Commonwealth  till  his  bravery  could  no  longer  avail. 

After  the  Restoration,  when  so  many  who  had  been 
active  in  the  cause  of  the  Commonwealth,  emigrated 
to  America,  he  came  hither.  He  intended  to  have 
pitched  his  tent  farther  south  ;  and  it  was  a  disastrous 
event  that  brought  him  to  Lynn.  When  the  vessel 
in  which  he  came  over  neared  the  land,  they  found 
themselves  off  the  entrance  of  Massachusetts  Bay.  A 
violent  stoi-m  arose,  and  it  soon  seemed  as  if  the  emi- 
grant-soldier, after  having  escaped  so  many  perils  by 
land,  was  at  once  to  be  destroyed  by  a  peril  of  the 
sea.  The  vessel  was  driven  furiously  into  and  about 
the  B  ly,  and  finally  stranded  on  Lynn  Beach,  which 
has  since  become  extensively  known  as  the  scene  of 
several  of  the  most  terrible  shipwrecks  that  ever  took 
place  on  the  Atlantic  coast. 

It  was  a  dark  and  dreadful  night  of  storm  when  the 
vessel  was  wrecked.  The  sea  raged  with  such  fury, 
and  the  cold  was  so  intense,  that  it  is  wonderfid  any 
soul  on  board  survived.  Only  two,  however,  were 
lost.  The  others,  by  various  means,  reached  the  land, 
and  were  well  cared  for  by  the  townsfolk.  The  bodies 
of  the  two  who  were  drowned,  were  recovered,  and 
buried  from  the  meeting  house,  with  all  the  solem- 
nities that  could  characterize  the  last  rites  over  dear 
friends. 

Mr.  Reddan  was  so  much  injured  as  to  be  compelled 
to  remain  housed  for  several  weeks.  And  the  kind- 
ness he  experienced  from  those  on  whose  hospitality 
he  had  been  thus  suddenly  thrown,  made  such  a  favor- 
able impression  on  him  that  immediately  on  his  recov- 
er}' he  announced  his  determination  to   remain  here. 


380  KOTABLE  THINGS. 

He  married  Anne  Johnson,  and  settled  on  a  small  farm, 
near  Saugus  river. 

While  Gotl"  and  Whalley,  the  regicides,  were  in  the 
vicinit}'  of  Boston,  Mr.  Reddan  is  suppo.seil  to  liave 
rendered  them  essential  service  by  warning-  of  ap- 
proaching danger.  And  at  the  time  Goff  so  mysteri- 
ously appealed  in  Lynn,  as  related  in  our  sketch  of 
Oliver  Puix'liis,  he  had  been  on  the  alert,  for  sevei'al 
days.  It  is,  moreover,  believed  that  the  niidnight 
flight  of  the  regicide  from  the  house  of  Mr.  Purcliis 
vsras  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Reddan, 

The  great  King  PhiHp  war  again  aroused  the  mar- 
tial spirit  of  Ml-.  Redchm.  And  we  find  him  in  the 
field  bearing  himself  with  the  same  bravery  and  expe- 
riencing the  same  rough  fortune  that  chaiactei-ized 
his  earlier  soldiership.  He  was  at  the  massacre  of 
Bloody  Brotdc,  in  Deerfield,  in  September,  1675,  hav- 
ing  joined  Lathrop's  command.  And  he  was  one  of 
the  very  Uiw  who  escaped  the  disastrous  Indian  am- 
buscade. 

After  hgliting  heroically,  for  some  time,  Mr.  Reddan 
was  borne  down  and  trodden  into  the  bog.  Presently 
a  ferocious  enemy  discovered  him  in  his  helpless  con- 
dition, and  proceeded  to  raise  his  head  on  a  stump  in 
preparation  for  the  scalping-knife.  The  implement 
had  already  been  drawn  across  the  forehead,  when  a 
youthful  fellow-soldier,  perceiving  his  peril,  sent  a  ball 
through  the  heart  of  the  savage,  who  fell  head  fore- 
most into  a  muddy  pool. 

Thus  rescued,  Mr.  Reddan  remained  a  while,  gather- 
ing strength,  till  able  to  crawl  to  a  place  of  safety. 
And  before  many  days  he  found  means  to  reach  his 
home.  But  he  was  not  restored  sufficiently  to  take 
the  field  again  during  that  war. 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       381 

Lot  US  now  take  a  look  into  the  Old  Tunnel.  It  is 
a  pleasant  Sunday  afternoon,  a  year  or  two  after  the 
erection  of  the  honored  edifice.  There  sits  tlie  worthy 
Mr.  Reddan,  with  head  erect,  by  no  means  ashamed  of 
the  scars  that  disfigure  his  countenance,  his  loose  jaw 
laboring  in  the  most  grotesque  manner,  as  his  wander- 
ing thoughts  are  called  in,  for  the  duties  of  the  sacred 
place. 

And  nestling  close  by  his  side,  is  his  beloved  and 
really  beautiful  daughter  Cora.  She  is  dressed  in  a 
pretty  g(nvn  of  English  stuff,  rather  gaily  trimmed, 
with  a  silk  sash,  knotted  at  the  side.  The  dress  fits 
her  gi-aceful  person  most  charmingly,  and  altogether 
she  presents  a  picture  of  rare  loveliness.  There  she 
sits,  with  a  quiet  air,  her  serene  blue  eyes  seldom 
roving  from  the  godly  teacher  in  the  pulpit,  excepting 
at  short  intervals  to  scan  the  scarred  countenance  of 
her  revered  parent.  And  at  those  affecting  intervals 
such  as  sit  near  mny  often  observe  a  tear  course  down 
her  fair  cheek,  for  she  knows  of  what  perilous  events 
those  scars  are  mementos. 

Mr.  Reddan  loved  his  fair  Cora  with  the  ardor  of  a 
widowed  heart,  for  her  mother  had  been  taken  away 
years  before,  and  he  seemed  to  have  little  left  beside 
her,  for  the  affections  of  his  declining  years  to  cling 
around.  And  she  was  worthy  of  his  love.  They 
were  always  at  meeting  together,  and  in  their  long 
walks  home,  through  the  quiet  green  lanes,  he  endea- 
vored to  impress  most  fully  upon  her  susceptible  mind 
the  great  truths  to  which  they  had  been  listening. 
His  long  months  of  mourning  had  softened  his  heart 
and  opened  new  chaimels  of  reflection.  And  he  now 
felt  the  warmest  sympathies  and  recognized  the  lofti- 
est duties  of  the  Christian.     He  seemed  to  be  enjoying 


382  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

a  pleasant  rest,  after  his  many  years  of  toil  and  dan- 
ger. His  means  were  now  ample  for  his  moderate 
wants,  and  with  a  thankful  heart  he  looked  upon  him- 
self as  highly  blessed.  Enjoying,  also,  the  esteem  of 
his  neighbors,  and  the  consciousness  of  having  per- 
formed many  worthy  deeds,  might  he  not  feel  at  ease? 

But  the  scenes  of  life  are  constantly  changing;  and 
no  sooner  does  one  begin  to  congi-atulate  himself  on 
the  prospect  of  repose  than  he  is  again  upon  the  wing. 
The  beautiful  Cora,  on  a  certain  evening  had  spent  an 
hour,  in  the  best  room,  in  company  with  her  iieighbor 
Richard  Lewis.  This  meeting  was  not  unknown  to 
her  father,  for  from  him  she  concealed  nothing.  And 
who  could  stand  higher  in  his  regard  than  Mr.  Lewis? 
for  it  was  his  quick  sight  and  ready  arm  that  saved 
him  from  the  ruthless  scalping-knife  on  the  bloody 
day  at  Deerfield. 

Presently  Richard  sought  Mr.  Reddan,  and  asked 
him  in.  Cora  sat  quietly  at  her  knitting  work,  as  he 
entered.  Yet,  a  close  observer  might  have  discovered 
that  she  breathed  quicker,  and  that  her  cheeks  were 
more  glowing  than  usual.  But  Richard  had  faced  too 
man}'  perils  to  lose  his  self-possession  on  such  an  occa- 
sion, and  with  an  unfalteiing  voice  asked  the  good 
father  if  Cora  might  be  his  bride. 

"I  knew  full  well,"  he  replied,  with  emotion,  "that 
it  would  come  to  this  at  last.  Well,  well,  Richard,  she 
may  be  thine.  I  would  not  obstruct  the  things  that 
be  ordained,  though  nature  will  have  it  that  I  had  far 
rather  the  scalping-knife  should  have  done  its  deadly 
work  than  lose  this  sunbeam  from  my  house." 

He  then  took  their  hands  and  affectionately  pressed 
them  together  in  his  own,  while  his  tears  fell  fast. 
Then  he  silently  withdrew.     And  Richard  and  Cora 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       383 

stood  some  moments,  as  it  were  transfixed  by  their 
emotions,  before  they  were  enfolded  in  each  other's 
arms. 

The  betrothment  of  Cora  and  Richard  had  a  strange 
effect  on  Mr.  Reddan.  The  whole  current  of  his  mind 
seemed  to  change,  and  he  began  to  lose  all  interest  iu 
the  affairs  of  life.  Even  the  religious  meeting  had  less 
and  less  attraction  for  him.  His  former  serenity  was 
changed  for  a  settled  moodiness.  And  thus  he  con- 
tinued, til],  upon  a  fair  autumn  day,  he  was  found  dead 
in  the  woods,  with  his  hand  still  grasping  the  gun 
which  had  evidently  been  the  instrument  of  his  deatii. 
He  was  out  hunting,  and  his  death  may  have  been 
the  result  of  accident.  But  there  were  those  who 
believed  he  had  taken  his  own  life.  It  is  a  harrowing 
thought.  But  if  it  were  so,  how  few  can  comprehend 
the  intensit}'  of  the  afiiection  he  had  for  Cora;  an 
affection  which  took  captive  reason  itself  and  left  him 
the  blind  victim  of  a  fearful  impulse. 

'  One  of  the  strangest  scenes  that  ever  happened  at 
the  Old  Tunnel  took  place  on  a  dark  evening  in  that 
year  so  pregnant  of  mysteries,  1G92.  It  was  a  very 
uncomfortable  time  for  those  abroad.  A  high  wind 
came  down  with  a  triumphant  whistle  from  the  north- 
east, the  sleet  was  cutting,  and  the  cold  benumbing. 
Nevertheless,  there  was  a  numerous  gathering,  from 
all  the  region  round  about.  They  had  assembled  to 
hear  the  famous  Cotton  Mather  discourse  on  the  do- 
ings of  the  invisible  tormentors  wlio  were  then  begin- 
ning their  lively  warflire  against  God's  holy  people. 

All  sorts  of  vehicles  were  standing  in  the  lee  of  the 
building,  and  the  poor  horses  snorted  and  shook  their 
heads,  as  if  remonstrating  against  the  cruelty  of  their 


384  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

masters  in  leaving  them  thus  exposed.  And  upon  th« 
windward  side,  tlie  gusts  drove  the  liail  and  big  drops 
against  tlio  windows,  with  a  fmy  tliat  indicated  a 
determination  to  try  the  strengtli  of  the  diminutive 
diamond  panes,  or  even,  perliaps,  to  compass  the  great- 
er miscliief  of  carrying  away  the  little  belfry,  and  thus 
leaving  the  edifice  a  noseless  Tunnel. 

Within  tlie  sanctnaiy,  the  tallow  candles  flared,  as 
the  blast  swept  over  them,  and  spitefully  dispensed 
their  unctions  droppings  in  a  manner  indicating  that 
in  that  place  at  least  there  was  no  respect  for  persons; 
and  in  their  fitful  radiance  those  solemn  countenances 
looked  almost  ghost-liUo. 

But  notwitlistanding  the  divers  petty  annoyances, 
those  good  people  listened  eagerly  to  the  leai'ned  ha- 
rangue of  that  acknowledged  leader  in  the  bravest 
assaults  on  the  kingdom  of  Satan. 

The  bold  speaker  had  gone  on  triumphantly  for 
some  time,  and  succeeded  in  working  up  the  fears 
as  well  as  the  pious  zeal  of  his  auditors  to  a  wonderful 
pitch,  when,  all  of  a  sudden,  as  the  gust  blew  opei> 
the  eastern  door,  their  ears  were  assailed  by  an' accu- 
mulation of  such  unearthly  sounds  as  they  never  heard 
before;  and  they  absolutely  started  from  their  seats. 
It  seemed  as  if  a  prodigious  band,  com[)osed  of  all  the 
high-keyed  instruments  that  had  been  invented  since 
the  world  began,  had  begun  to  play,  without  any  re- 
gard to  tune  or  time.  The  conclusion  that  a  legion 
of  remorseless  devils  had  arrived,  was  adopted  with 
one  accord,  and  those  worthies  who  would  have  gone 
forth  unflinchingly  to  meet  any  earthly  foe,  stood  trem- 
bling with  fright.  And  was  there  not  reason  for  their 
apprehensions  —  reason  in  the  facts  that  he  who  was 
then   addressing  them   was   the   most  determined  foo 


THE   OLD    TUNNEL   MEETING   HOUSE.  385 

of  all  the  dark  powers,  and  that  now,  probably,  a  des- 
perate attempt  was  to  be  made  to  extinguish  him? 
The  horses  neighed  and  twitched  at  their  bridles,  and 
a  straying  bull  ran  bellowing  down  the  street  as  if  the 
prime  minister  of  evil  himself  were  in  pursuit. 

The  invaders,  whoever  they  were,  seemed  approach- 
ing ;  and  after  the  first  paroxysm  of  terror  was  over, 
a  general  rush  was  made  to  escape  from  the  house, 
no  one  appearing  to  dream  that  within  those  sacred 
walls  they  were  most  safe  from  all  assailants  from  the 
nether  world.  '  Pell-mell  they  rushed  from  the  doors ; 
and  even  the  windows  had  to  yield  to  the  eagerness 
of  some.  In  an  astonishingly  short  space  the  house 
was  cleared.  And  it  seemed  as  if  some  flew  into  the 
air  and  others  sank  into  the  earth,  so  quickly  was  the 
whole  neighborhood  evacuated.  And  there  stood  the 
Old  Tunnel,  solitary  and  alone,  the  winds  whistling 
among  the  rafters  and  sporting  with  the  feeble  tallow- 
dips  like  cats  playing  with  expiring  mice.  But  the 
unearthlynoises  continued  to  distract  the  air.  And 
in  a  short  time  another  terror  was  added.  Guns  were 
heard,  in  quick  succession.  True,  this  gave  the  thing 
a  little  more  of  a  natural  and  christian  aspect ;  but 
when  once  safely  housed,  few  thought  of  venturing 
abroad  till  morning  should  reveal  the  position  of 
affairs. 

The  next  day  surely  did  bring  a  revelation  ;  and  a 
rather  comical  one  it  was.  It  came  through  Ephraim 
Rand  and  Obed  Mansfield,  two  of  the  most  alert  sports- 
men in  the  place.  They  had  a  splendid  lot  of  wild 
geese  for  sale.  And  the  solution  of  the  mystery  made 
some  of  the  good  people  hang  their  heads  as  low,  in 
shame,  as  did  the  Windham  folk  on  the  occasion  of  the 
frog  invasion. 

Q    '  25 


386  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

The  solution  was  simply  this:  An  immense  flock  of 
wild  geese  had  been  overtaken  by  the  sleety  storm,  ip 
which  so  obstructed  their  flight  that  they  did  not 
arrive  here  at  the^ seashore  till  night  bad  set  in.  The 
ice  had  so  accTimulated  upon  their  wings  that  they 
saw  the  hazard  of  putting  out  over  the  sea.  Being 
forced  to  alight,  they  seemed  to  think  it  as  well  to 
have  a.  jolly  time,  and  so  began  with  exercising  their 
voices.  They  had  taken  possession  of  a  field  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  meeting  house,  and  while  adjusting  their 
plans  for  the  night  seemed  to  grow  more  and  more 
excited.  Their  unearthly  trumpetings  soon  caught  the 
practiced  ears  of  Ephraim  and  Obed,  who,  seizing  their 
guns,  speedily  made  merchandize  of  a  goodly  number. 

We  gather  the  following  account  of  a  most  extraor- 
dinary occurrence,  alleged  to  have  taken  place  at  the 
Old  Tunnel,  on  a  Sunday  afternoon,  in  June,  1687, 
from  some  notes  on  the  blank  leaves  of  a  manuscript 
sermon. 

There  was  a  very  promising  and  deeply  pious  young 
man  in  the  town,  named  Daniel  Graves.  He  was  much 
respected,  in  particular,  for  the  good  influence  he  ex- 
ercised over  the  young  men  with  whom  he  associated. 
His  death  took  place  in  a  very  sudden  and  awful  man- 
ner, in  the  early  part  of  the  month  just  named.  Being 
at  work  in  his  father's  field,  when  a  violent  shower 
came  up,  he  sought  shelter  under  a  tree.  But  hardly 
had  he  reached  the  shelter  when  a  terrific  electrical 
discharge  occurred,  shattering  the  tree,  and  killing 
him  instantly.  This  startling  dispensation  was  the 
occasion  of  the  preaching  of  the  sermon  from  the 
blank  leaves  of  which  our  account  is  derived.  We  pre- 
sume the  discourse  was  by  Mr.  Shepard,  though  that 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       387 

fact  does  not  distinctly  appear.  The  funeral  took 
place  on  a  Friday,  and  on  the  following  Sunday  a 
very  large  concourse  gathered  to  hear  the  sermon. 
And  all  felt  so  great  an  interest  in  the  deceased,  and 
his  mourning  parents,  for  he  was  an  only  child,  that 
they  attended  on  the  services  with  softened  hearts, 
and  minds  open  to  receive  the  good  influences  that 
might  arise  from  a  recounting  of  his  virtues. 

A  long,  solemn  prayer  had  been  made,  the  Scrip- 
tures read,  and  the  last  couplet  of  the  hymn  lined  pfF. 
Then,  just  as  the  minister  was  making  ready  to  rise 
from  the  bench  in  the  pulpit,  to  name  his  text,  before 
the  astonished  gaze  of  the  whole  congregation,  the 
deceased  young  man  appeared,  standing  erect  in  the 
pulpit.  With  a  pale  and  serious  countenance  he  care- 
fully surveyed  the  assembly.  Then  he  took  the  Bible, 
opened  it,  and  placed  the  mark'against  a  particular 
text.  Having  done  this,  he  again  cast  his  eyes  over  the 
congregation,  till  he  met  the  gaze  of  a  blooming  little 
girl  of  some  twelve  summers,  the  daitghter  of  a*  neigh- 
boring farmer.  It  was  her  gentle  hand  that  laid  the 
flowers  on  his  cofSn,  on  the  day  of  his  burial,  and  her 
gentle  heart  that  almost  broke  when  she  saw  the  sods 
placed  upon  his  grave.  Bestowing  an  earnest  and 
tender  look  upon  her  he  slowly  raised  his  hand,  and  in 
the  act  of  beckoning,  vanished  away. 

The  choir  were  paralized,  and  could  not  finish  their 
strain.  The  young  girl  fainted,  and  others  present 
were  greatly  moved.  The  minister,  however,  and  one 
or  two  others,  appear'  to  have  seen  nothing  of  the 
apparition.  And  having  seen  nothing,  the  godly  man 
was  so  amazed  at  the  proceedings  that  he  called 
loudly  upon  old  Deacon  Newhall,  for  an  explanation. 
Many  voices  volunteered  to  give  the  desired  informa- 


388  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

tion.  And  when  it  was  given,  he  seemed  at  first 
inclined  to  doubt  the  good  faith  of  their  senses.  But 
before  such  a  cloud  of  witnesses,  his  incredulity  gave 
way,  and  was  succeeded  by  an  astonishment  that  quite 
equalled  theirs. 

After  a  few  minutes  of  silence,  they  became  suffi- 
ciently calm  to  allow  of  the  services  being  proceeded 
with.  On  turning  to  the  Bible,  the  minister  found  the 
mark  at  the  very  passage  which  he  had  chosen  for  his 
text,  though  he  felt  certain  that  he  had  not  opened  the 
book.  It  will  not  be  wondered  at  that  this  occurrence 
produced  a  profound  sensation.  Various  explanatory 
theories  were  proposed;  but  we  do  not  learn  that 
any  particular  one  was  fixed  upon,  in  the  popular 
mind,  as  sufficient.  Of  course,  a  great  portion  of  the 
people  could  never  be  persuaded  that  it  was  not  a 
genuine  ultramundane  appearance;  an  appearance  full 
as  inexplicable  as  that  of  the  phantom  ship  at  New 
Haven,  which  had  created  such  a  sensation  throughout 
New  l?ngland,  matiy  years  before.  And  to  the  savans 
of  this  day,  who  so  well  understand  the  mysteries  of 
atmospheric  refraction,  we  imagine,  it  will  furnish  a 
much  more  inexplicable  phenomenon.  It  is  not  in 
our  power  to  furnish  any  explanation  that  would  be 
more  satisfactory  than  what  would  occur  to  the  intel- 
ligent reader.  We  simply  give. what  comes  to  us  as 
fact,  and  cannot  hold  ourselves  responsible  fpr  what 
conclusions  it  may  lead  to. 

But  this  narration  would  be  incomplete  did  we  omit  to 
add  a  few  words  regarding  the  little  maiden  to  whom 
we  have  already  briefly  alluded.  She  was,  in  very 
early  childhood,  much  in  the  habit  of  running  across 
the  field  to  the  house  of  Mr,  Graves,  where  she  was 
always*  welcome,  to  amuse  herself  in  the  garden  or 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       389 

within  doors.  Daniel  would  meet  her  with  a  smile, 
and  was  ever  ready  to  aid  her  in  the  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness, even  through  her  own  childish  ways.  But,  above 
all,  as  soon  as  her  opening  mind  had  gathered  sufficient 
strength,  he  loved  to  instill  into  it  the  most  useful 
instruction.  Often  would  he  sit  by  her,  on  the  green 
sward,  and  in  a  familiar  way,  without  catechism  or 
story  book,  lead  her  to  a  lively  contemplation  of  the 
beautiful  and  pure.  She  became  tenderly  attached  to 
him ;  would  often  run  to  take  his  hand  on  the  way  to 
meeting;  and  never  seemed  so  happy  as  when  nestling 
close  beside  him  in  the  sanctuary.  She  was  a  rare 
little  maid;  possessing  extraordinary  quickness  of  per- 
ception, and  a  fascination  of  manner,  quite  remarkable. 
We  shall  not  attempt  to  describe,  in  detail,  the  effect 
of  the  spectral  appearance  upon  her.  The  impression 
was  deep,  but  not  unpleasant.  She  loved  to  talk  about 
it,  and  never  seemed  to  doubt  that  the  beckoning  was 
intended  to  apprise  her  of  an  early  death.  But  it 
created  no  fear;  seeming  only  to  inspire  her  with 
more  and  more  zeal  to  profit  by  the  good  instruction 
she  had  received  from  the  departed  dear  one.  She 
often  declared  to  her  friends,  with  an  assurance  solemn 
and  affecting,  that  she  should  soon  follow  him  to  a 
better  land.  And  so  it  turned  out.  When  the  brown 
leaves  of^utumn  began  to  fall,  she  was  laid  in  her 
little  cliurchyard  bed,  beside  her  beloved  friend. 

Is  it  not  pleasant  and  profitable  to  linger  in  these 
sacred  precincts  —  to  listen  to  the  earnest  voice  and 
stately  periods  of  the  godly  preacher  —  to  scan  the 
grave  countenances  of  the  old,  the  bright  and  health- 
ful faces  of  the  young  —  to  hearken  to  the  prolonged 
strains  of  sacred  song  ?     But  in  this  last  named  portion 


590  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

of  the  service,  to  be  sure,  there  was  a  little  awkward- 
ness, arising  from  the  necessity  of  lining  off  the  words, 
in  couplets.  Yet  the  music  was  performed  by  voices 
as  sweet  as  are  ever  now  heard  in  any  of  the  multi- 
tude of  pretentious  "  churches  "  that  cluster  around 
the  consecrated  site  on  which  for  so  many  years  the 
Old  Tunnel  stood,  in  solitary  grandeur;  and  j>erformed, 
too,  in  as  exact  concord  and  as  perfect  time.  What  if 
the  unsanctified  music  of  the  organ  never  echoed  with- 
in those  walls?  The  worshipers  there  believed  it  just 
as  well  to  employ  their  own  voices  in  uttering  praise 
as  to  use  machinery.  What  if  the  fanciful  tunes  of 
modern  days  did  not  greet  their  ears?  They  weie 
content  to  march  sedately  along  their  heavenward 
way,  to  strains  as  measured  as  the  ocean  swell,  instead 
of  hopping  and  skippiiig  along  under  the  enchantments 
of  ebon  minstrelsy. 

We  have  a  sort  of  fugitive  hope  that  we  may,  at 
some  future  time,  again  visit  this  endeared  shrine. 
And  perhaps  we  may  be  left  to  resume  the  pen  and 
bring  before. the  reader  certain  instructive  scenes  and 
characters  pertaining  to  later  times.  What  a  preg- 
nant history  is  embodied  in  the  period  stretching  on 
from  1700  to  1800,  and  thence  for  another  quarter  of 
a  century,  to  the  time  when  the  favored  spot  which 
had  so  long  known  the  motherly  structure^  began  to 
know  it  no  more?  But  we  would  by  no  means  be 
understood  as  promulgating  a  determination  to  inflict 
on  the  innocent  and  unsuspicious  community  another 
volume,  as  such  an  inconsiderate  course  might  induce 
some  compassionate  friend  to  try  the  restraining  power 
of  bonds.  Good  intentions,  it  is  true,  may  mitigate 
the  gravity  of  an  offence.  But  it  is  difficult  to  over- 
look some  follies. 


THE    OLD    TUNNEL    MEETING    HOUSE.  391 

And  we  must  withdraw  from  those  hallowed  courts 
wherein  so  many  devout  souls  were  strengthened  and 
sustained  by  the  spiritual  bread  and  wine ;  those  hal- 
lowed courts  wherein,  for  generation  after  generation, 
gathered  maturit}'  as  manly  and  true,  youth  as  beauti- 
ful and  pure,  as  ever  bowed  down  in  the  most  gorgeous 
temple  on  earth. 

And  where  are  all  those  who  went  up  thither  during 
the  period  of  which  we  speak?  The  old,  have  for  scores 
of  years  lain  beneath  the  sod.  The  young  men  and 
maidens,  loved,  wedded,  became  parents,  grew  gray, 
and  departed  in  the  great  procession.  The^  infants, 
who  irreverently  screamed  as  the  baptismal  water  was 
sprinkled  upon  them,  also  became  old  men  and  women 
and  passed  away.  The  consecrated  structure  itself 
became  hoary  with  age,  shattered  and  unfashionable, 
and  long  since  disappeared. 

We  have  said  that  the  Old  Tunnel  was,  for  genera- 
tions, the  gathering  place  of  the  most  unalloyed  of 
puritanical  stamp.  And  we  need  not  repeat  that  it 
is  with  unfeigned  diffidence  that  we  speak  of  their 
characteristics  and  opinions  and  of  the  position  they 
chose  to  occupy. 

It  is  difficult  for  a  writer  to  treat  to  any  extent  of 
the  Old  Settlers  without  sometimes  appearing  to  be 
inconsistent  with  himself.  The  difficulty  is  in  the  sub- 
ject. There  is  so  much'  to  praise,  and  intimately  con- 
nected with  it  so  much  of  at  least  a  questionable 
character,  that  the  reader  cannot  be  expected  at  all 
times  fully  to  distinguish  the  stand  point  from  which  a 
given  view  may  have  been  taken. 

All  know  how  easy  it  is  to  find  fault,  and  how  prone 
most  of  us  are  to  magnify  the  tailings  rather  than  the 


392  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

virtues  of  others.  Indeed,  there  seems  to  be  much 
less  capacity  required  in  distinguishing  evil  than  good. 
And  where  we  find  twenty  who  can  at  once  discern 
every  blemish  in  another,  we  do  not  find  three  who 
can  as  readily  perceive  the  good  points.  A  readiness 
to  judge  of  others  does  not  involve  a  presumption  of 
superiority,  as  one  may  be  vastly  inferior  to  another 
and  yet  entertain  a  very  just  conception  of  him.  And 
besides,  every  man  has  some  point  in  which  he  is  supe- 
rior to  other  men. 

In  speaking  of  the  early  settlers,  no  one  will  deny 
that  thej^  possessed  characteristics  as  cold  and  cheer- 
less as  the  northeast  wind  that  howled  over  their 
granite  hills.  But  they  also  possessed  characteristics 
bright  and  beautiful  as  the  sunshine  upon  the  blooming 
hills.  The  very  earliest  of  the  Puritan  settlers  in  New 
England,  with  exceptions,  were  more  liberal  in  their 
views  than  those  of  the  succeeding  generation.  The 
first,  were  reared  in  England,  many  of  them  in  the 
bosom  of  the  established  church,  and  by  association 
with  minds  of  different  orders  and  discipline,  naturally 
had  many  of  their  sterner  points  polished  down;  while 
those  born  and  educated  here,  had  little  opportunity 
for  circulating  with  those  of  other  views,  and  naturally 
inclined  tenaciously  to  their  training. 

It  was  an  anomalous  age  that  gave  birth  to  the  colo- 
nization of  New  England.  The  history  of  the  world 
presents  no  other  point  like  it.  The  elements  which 
ultimately  formed  into  those  systems  of  polity  which 
in  our  day  shed  such  lustre  upon  the  name  of  England, 
upon  our  own  nation,  upon  every  community  of  the 
same  lineage,  were  still  in  their  incipient  stage  of 
action,  though  long  before  had  the  premonitory  pulsa- 
tions been  felt.     The  weighty  pall  of  ignoranccj  super- 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       393 

stition  and  servility,  which  had  spread  over  the  island 
realm  from  the  early  feudal  days,  had  become  gradually 
illuminated  by  the  progress  of  a  reformed  religion  and 
the  gushing  out  of  a  flood  of  light  through  'the  art 
of'printing.  The  popular  masses  were  not  now  identi- 
fied with  the  clods  of  the  earth;  the  lordly  path  was 
not  hedged  with  bowed  vassals.  A  more  commanding 
but  still  not  clearly  defined  conception  of  individual 
worth  and  responsibility,  of  true  liberty,  was  acting 
like  leaven  and  working  the  mass  into  that  state  where 
some  master  hand  could  mold  it  to  the  loftiest  pur- 
poses. 

But  no  age  is  without  some* traits  of  greatness  and 
goodness,  for  man  at  no  time  and  in  no  place*is  entirely 
devoid  of  the  sacred  principles  on  which  they  rest. 
There  was  greatness  in  the  feudal  times.  Some  lead- 
ing principles  that  marked  the  castellated  grandeur  of 
that  period  have  come  down  "like  stalking  giants  to  us, 
leaving  their  footprints  on  every  intervening  age,  and 
commanding  the  reverence  of  the  wise  and  good  in  the 
most  refined  period  that  the  world  has  seen. 

The  Elizabethan  was  an  age  in  travail  with  great 
events,  and  itself  one  of  undefinable  greatness  ;  an  age 
of  extremes;  as  it  were,  of  noonday  and  midnight; 
with  no  softening  of  dawn  or  twilight.  There  was  a 
keen  perception  of  the  rights  of  man,  of  the  value  of 
the  human  soul ;  and  a  vigorous  determination  to 
trample  on  those  rights,  to  enslave  that  soul.  It  was 
an  age  of  bigotry  and  blood ;  of  high  conception  and 
chivalric  deed.  It  was  the  age  in  which  Puritanism 
began  its  work. 

No  mirror,  as  we  have  before  remarked,  can  more 
faithfully  delineate  the  character  of  a  people  than  their 
laws.     Laws  are  the  offspring  of  circumstances,  and 


f 

394  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

through  them  the  genius,  spirit  and  condition  of  a 
nation  are  manifested.  And  many  of  the  lofty  princi- 
ples recognised  in  the  jurisprudence  of  that  age  will 
hold  sway  so  long  as  law  is  required  to  regulate  the 
conduct  of  men.  Take  them  from  our  own  worthily 
extolled  web  of  justice,  and  some  of  the  brightest 
threads  will  be  gone. 

The  swaddling-clothes  of  Puritanism  were  of  black. 
The  fiery  eyeballs  of  persecution  glared  upon  the  in- 
fant's smileless  countenance.  And  pitfalls  and  sharp 
rocks  were  in  the  path  of  the  tottering  feet.  The 
reformers  were  at  first  sneeringly  called  Puritans, 
because  they  were  striving  to  purify  the  English 
church  of  certain  rites  and  dogmas,  unscriptural,  as 
they  to  them  appeared,  which  were  of  papal  parentage 
and  which  Elizabeth  had  retained  probably  from  the 
servile  desire  to  avoid  a  rancorous  opposition  from  the 
many  powerful  Catholics  still  in  her  dominions.  The 
bosom  of  the  church  soon  became  too  thorny  a  pillow 
for  their  repose ;  for  whatever  sins  that  church  may 
have  to  repent  of,  the  petting  of  recreant  children  is 
surely  not  one  of  them. 

Reforms  are  usually  better  than  reformers  ;  and  if 
we  could  only  have  the  former  without  the  latter  the 
world  would  be  all  the  better  for  it.  Reformers  are 
apt  to  press  hotly  and  uncompromisingly  towards  an 
end,  regardless  of  the  damage  that  may  be  done  col- 
laterally. The  Puritans  afford  no  exception ;  at  least 
in  marked  instances.  They  adhered  to  their  system, 
rough-hewn  and  forbidding  in  many  of  its  features, 
with  a  tenacity  strangely  unyielding  and  a  zeal  not 
always  generous,  not  always  enlightened  or  .discreet. 
Nor  were  they  backward,  as  opportunity  offered,  in 
carrying  the  war  into  the  enemy's  territory.     Their 


THE  OLD  TUNNEL  MEETING  HOUSE.       395 

influence  began  to  be  felt,  their  inroads  to  be  feared. 
Theories  new  and  of  overwhehning  moment  began  to 
agitate  the  non-hereditary  ranks.  And  the  ruling  pow- 
ers, clerical  and  lay,  had  certain  fearful  glimpses  for- 
ward to  a  time  when  the  swelling  surges  might  in  one 
general  destruction  involve  the  great  ecclesiastic  and 
regal  fabrics. 

Sincerity  and  zeal  are  not  proof  of  justice  and  truth, 
though  often  worthy  of  respect.  Martyrdom  itself  is 
not  evidence  of  merit  in  the  cause  for  which  it  is  suf- 
fered. But  whatever  may  be  our  views,  or  whatever 
may  have  been  theirs,  on  the  great  matter  of  christian 
truth  and  man's  duty,  we  cannot  recur  to  the  trials 
and  sacrifices,  the  perseverance  and  strong  faith  of  the 
New  England  fathers,  without  sentiments  of  high  re- 
spect, of  reverence,  of  awe.  And  some  examples  of 
such  exalted  character  present  themselves,  as  make  us 
proud  to  tread  the  earth  they  trod. 

Behold  the  godly  Eliot.  See  him  take  his  dark  way 
into  the  Avilderness,  to  seek  out  and  gather  together 
the  straying  red  men  that  he  may  break  to  them  the 
bread  of  life.  For  many  days  together  we  see  him  on 
his  lonely  way  among  the  snows  of  winter,  hungry  and 
chilled,  at  night  seeking  the  shelter  of  some  hollow 
tree  or  overhanging  rock,  and  wringing  the  water 
from  his  garments  lest  through  the  cold,  dark  hours 
they  freeze  upon  his  limbs.  And  when  the  inhospita- 
ble chiefs  bid  him  quit  their  domains,  he  boldly  de- 
clares to  them  that  he  is  on  his  Master's  business  —  a 
Master  who  is  mightier  than  they  —  and  will  not  desist, 
I  will  not  leave  you,  he  says ;  I  will  pray  for  you ;  I 
will  preach  to  you ;  I  will  convert  you.  He  kept  his 
word.  He  suffered,  wept  and  wrestled  for  them.  He 
gave  them  the  word  of  life  in  their  own  tongue.     Ho 


i 


396  NOTABLE  THINGS. 

persevered,  und  won  their  respect,  tlieir  confidence  and 
love.  And  there  rose  up  a  brawny  phahuix,  the  breath 
of  whose  grateful  praise  will  play  upon  his  brow  in  the 
upper  Paradise,  sweetly  as  their  own  beloved  south 
wind  plays  upon  the  weary  hunter's  brow. 

Who  does  not  follow  with  reverential  steps  the 
course  of  Roger  Williams,  -whose  history  embodies 
such  a  commentary  on  the  contrarieties  of  puritan 
character.  See  him  take  his  devious  way  into  the 
country  of  the  Narragansetts,  beyond  the  colonial 
jurisdiction,  banished  from  those  still  dear  compan- 
ions whose  heartj^  he  had  often  cheered  in  their  labors 
and  trials;  from  those  firesides  where  childhood  had 
rejoiced  in  his  smiles,'  where  age  had  been  made  glad 
by  his  heavenly  love  and  sympathy.  Banished  —  by 
whom,  and  for  what?  By  his  own  compeers,  by  those 
with  whom  and  for  whom  he  had  labored  and  suffered, 
because,  conscience-urged,  he  had  disseminated  views 
of  God's  truth  and  man's  duty,  lofty  indeed,  but  differ- 
ing from  theirs.  And  see  the  great  work  that  he  per- 
formed in  the  savage  country  to  which  he  bent  his 
steps.  •  From  the  little  band  that  followed,  and  the 
awe-struck  natives,  he  formed  a  church.  And  God's 
praise  never  ascended  in  more  acceptable  strains  than 
were  thence  borne  upward  by  the  wintry  wind.  And 
then  was  reared  in  that  inhospitable  wilderness,  a  po- 
litical fabric,  based  on  far  broader  conceptions  of  human 
liberty  and  right,  than  had  vivified  other  portions  of 
this  wakening  land. 

Who,  with?5ut  a  thrill,  can  contemplate  the  character 
and  course  of  Hugh  Peters  —  a  character  and  course 
full  of  incongruities,  yet  noble  and  commanding.  See 
him,  in  youthful  vigor,  moving  by  his  fervid  eloquence 
audiences^  of  thousands   of  the   denizens  of  London: 


THE   OLD    TUNNEL    MEETING    HOUSE.  397 

then  stealtliilj  following  the  fleeing  pilg'rims  to  ITol- 
land,  cheering  them  by  his  counsels,  aiding  them  bj<k 
his  means. 

Pass  over  a  brief  space,  and  behold  him  on  the  mar- 
gin of  Wenhara  Pond,  addressing  the  assembled  chil- 
dren of  the  shadowy  land.  There  stands  he  in  the 
full  strength  of  manhood,  upon  the  forest  studded 
declivit}',  the  beautiful  lake  stretching  out  before  him, 
rejoicing  in  the  summer  sunlight,  and  bearing  upon  its 
unruffled  bosom  the  fairy-like  Indian  barks.  The  gray 
old  oak  and  flaunting  pine  lave  their  roots  in  the  reno- 
vating waters,  and  the  unscared  birds  gambol  among 
the  foliage.  And  who  are  they,  surrounding  the  pale 
brother  from  the  far-off  land  of  the  rising  sun,  and 
listening  to  his  story  of  wonders.  They  are  a  band 
of  strayed  brothers.  The  strong  armed  forest  father 
is  there ;  the  young  hunter  from  the  chase ;  the  war- 
rior from  the  battle  ground.  And  there  the  white 
eagle  plume  waves  over  the  dusky  brow  of  the  forest 
maid. 

And  again,  behold  him  in  the  little  rustic  sanctuary 
of  the  Third  Plantation,  by  his  tempestuous  eloquence 
arousing  the  hearts  of  the  desponding  settlers. 

See  him  again  in  Old  England,  pleading  with  zeal 
aMent  and  unquenchable  for  the  rights  of  the  sufi'ering 
colonists  and  making  his  influence  felt  at  the  very 
heart  of  the  nation.  Behold  him  a  master  spirit  riding 
on  the  stormy  waves  of  the  Commonwealth,  exempli- 
fying again,  in  his  own  course,  some  of  the  contrarie- 
ties of  the  age  ;  taking  the  field  with  the  parliamentary 
hosts ;  praying  ardently  and  fighting  valiantly  under 
the  same  banner.  "  Verily,"  says  Cromwell,  "  I  think 
he  that  prays  best  will  fight  best."  An  expressive 
commentary  on  the  spirit  of  the  age. 


398  NOTABLE   THINGS. 

Where  sliall  we  look  again  for  liim?     On  the  sledge, 

j^eated  on  his  own  coffin,  in  the  mournful  procession, 

approaching  the  fatal  block,  to  meet  his  destiny  as  a 

regicide ;  and  to  meet  it,  too,  with  the  resignation  and 

nerve  of  exalted  christian  heroism. 

And,  lastly,  see  his  blood-smeared  and  ghastly  head 
with  sightless  eyes  yawning  from  a  parapet  of  London 
Bridge,  the  object  of  scorn  and  indignity  to  the  rude 
multitude. 

The  singularly  dark  views  of  human  nature  taken 
by  many  of  the  old  clergy  were  perhaps  to  some  ex- 
tent engendered  by  the  spirit  of  the  times  and  the 
cloudy  circumstances  by  which  they  were  so  frequent- 
ly surrounded.  Often  did  they  seem  to  labor  to  render 
the  Christian's  path  thorny,  his  race  melancholy.  Their 
minds  were  deeply  exercised  on  the  great  and  glorious 
truths  of  God's  word,  but  the  dark  side  was  kept  in 
view.  They  appeared  not  to  realise  that  with  justice 
and  dread,  God  himself  had  mingled  mercy  and  love. 
They  pondered  on  the  terrors  and  pains  of  hell,  rather 
than  the  joys  and  bliss  of  heaven.  The  rocky  cliffs 
that  frowned  above  the  surges  that  lashed  these  wild 
shores,  and  the  hills  that  towered  above  the  shadowy 
plains,  were  so  many  Sinais,  from  which  were  con- 
stantly issuing  the  lightnings  of  Jehovah's  wrath,  the 
thunders  of  his  law.  In  cold  and  gloomy  strains  their 
hallelujahs  reverberated  among  the  dim  vales,  and 
their  austere  bearing  and  harsh  speech  were  fitted 
rather  to  chill  than  cheer  the  warm  of  heart. 

Yet  it  was  not  so  with  all.  There  were  many  free 
souls  glowing  in  the  warm  atmosphere  of  the  brighter 
promises;  joyous  souls,  quickened  by  the  sweet  inspira- 
tions of  mercy  and  love  ;  true  christian  souls,  shedding 
all  around  the  most  blessed  influences  of  our  holy  faith. 


THE    OLD    TUNNEL    MEETING    HOUSfe.  399 

There  are  many  still  backward  in  awarding  the 
praise  justly  due  to  the  early  settlers.  They  look  at 
isolated  facts  and  blemishes,  and  from  them  argue 
that  no  real  or  at  least  intended  good  could  have  pro- 
ceeded from  such  people.  And  when  the  undeniable 
and  substantial  blessings  are  forced  into  recognition, 
they  turn  to  discover  their  origin  elsewhere. 

Many  enlightened  minds,  who  have  little  sympathy 
with  the  dark  and  cold  features  of  the  old  theology, 
believing  that  something  brighter  and  more  heart- 
attracting  would  have  accomplished  still  more,  are  yet 
ready  to  do  reverence  to  those  worthy  fathers  for  the 
great  benefits  that  they  undeniably  did  secure  for  all 
generations  that  were  to  succeed  them  on  this  soil. 

The  early  settlers  so  intimately  blended  the  secular 
with  the  ecclesiastical  character,  that  we  are,  without 
doubt,  constantly  liable  to  mistake  the  motive  or  prin- 
ciple from  which  this  or  that  result  flowed.  A  com- 
munity may  possess  vast  political  sagacity  and  yet 
cling  to  a  very  poor  religious  faith;  or  it  may  possess 
the  loftiest  conceptions  of  christian  truth,  and -yet  act 
upon  false  principles  of  worldly  wisdom.  And  when 
they  are  endowed  in  a  large  measure  with  both  worldly 
wisdom  and  christian  grace,  it  is  not  easy  to  analyze 
their  economy. 

This  intermingling  of  the  secular  with  the  ecclesias- 
tical is  shown  in  the  fact  to  which  we  have  before 
alluded,  that  no  one  was  eligible  to  office  unless  he 
were  a  regular  church  member.  This  may  be  viewed 
by  some  as  savoring  of  the  darkness  from  which  they 
had  professedly  just  fled.  All  history  testifies  that 
in  a  union  of  church  and  state,  pure  religion  is  most 
liable  to  suffer.  And  hence  any  tendency  to  such 
union  is  worthy  of  being  guarded  against.     In  this  en- 


t 


400 


NOTABLE    THINGS. 


lightened  age  anri  coiuitiy,  however,  there  is  probar 
blj  little  real  dinger,  though  tlie  cry  of  wolf  must 
needs  at  all  times  be  more  or  less  distinctly  heard. 
But  the  object  of  the  requisition  alluded  to  admits  of 
more  than  one  explanation.  Perhaps  they  could  devise 
no  better  Avay  by  which  to  keep  the  churches  full.  And 
we  cannot  divest  ourselves  of  the  conviction  that  if  at 
this  day  it  should  be  determined  that  none  but  church 
members  could  be  office  holders,  there  would  be  such 
a  rush  into  the  sacred  folds  as  no  revival  since  the 
great  day  of  Pentecost  has  produced. 


Pulpit  Rock.  Nahant.    Page  105. 


THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 
Pages  401  to  500. 


THE 
ANCHOR   TA.VERTsr. 

"  The  antient  worthies  long  met  here, 

at  close  of  winter's  day, 
With  muggs  and  pypes  and  honest  cheer, 

to  pass  the  houre  away." 

The  first  edition  of  "  Lin  "  appeared  in  1862,  and 
embraced  just  400  pages.  And  now,  in  presenting  this 
new  edition,  enlarged  by  the  pages  which  follow,  it  may 
not  be  improper  for  the  author  to  remark  that  while  he 
had  abundant  reason  to  be  gratified  with  the  kind  re- 
ception of  the  former  edition  by  indulgent  readers  and 
a  hospitable  press  —  one  of  the  most  flattering  expres- 
sions, by  the  way,  coming  from  the  lips  of  an  aged 
Quaker  preacher,  who,  taking  him  warmly  by  the  hand, 
exclaimed,  "  I  must  tell  thee  that  I  've  both  laughed  and 
cried  over  thy  book  "  —  he  was,  nevertheless,  led  to  fear 
that  the  scope  and  purpose  were  not  in  all  cases  fully 
understood. 

By  a  strict  adherence  to  barren  facts  in  the  history 
of  a  people,  much  of  the  true  spirit  may  remain  unde- 
veloped. Traditions  and  inferential  elucidations  often 
form  a  most  valuable  backing  for  the  mirror  that  is  to 
reflect  a  given  period  ;  and  those  may  not  find  place  in 
a  stately  history.  In  these  additional  pages  —  which 
it  will  be  observed  are  marked  by  a  slightly  different 
style  of  type  —  as  well  as  in  the  preceding,  some  of 
them  may  be  found  ;  so  that,  while  it  is  not  claimed  that 

(401)  26 


402  NOTABLE     THINGS. 

direct  authority  can  be  referred  to  for  every  statement 
it  is  confidently  claimed  that  the  whole  is  as  truly 
illustrative  of  the  People  and  their  Doings  in  those  good 
old  times,  of  their  v^alks  and  their  ways,  as  if  every 
page  were  disfigured  by  reference  to  authorities.  And 
by  the  same  token,  while  the  scenes  are  laid  in  a  some- 
what circumscribed  vicinage,  though  one  of  the  most 
picturesque  and  diversified  in  all  New  England,  it  is 
yet  true  that  most  extensive  fields  of  historic  interest 
are  held  in-  survey. 

But  the  middle  of  a  book  being  hardly  the  place  for 
a  preface,  we  will  no  longer  loiter  on  our  way  to  "  the 
shrine  our  fathers  loved,"  —  the  good  old  Anchor  Tavern. 

Among  the  earliest  institutions  established  by  the 
first  settlers  of  New  England  were  houses  of  entertain- 
ment ;  coeval  indeed  were  they  with  the  churches.  The 
accommodation  of  travellers  was  of  course  the  great 
purpose,  but  it  was  not  that  alone.  In  the  old  country 
they  had  been  accustomed  to  the  ale-house,  where 
"  nut-brown  draughts  "  were  dispensed,  and  where  the 
village  rustics  assembled  to  gossip,  to  argue  and  discuss 
if  not  to  engage  in  less  innocent  diversions.  What 
wonder,  then,  that  the  settlers  should,  by  force  of  habit, 
if  nothing  else,  have  felt  the  need  of  something  of  the 
kind.  It  was  before  the  era  of  newspapers  ;  and  re- 
ports of  weighty  occurrences  and  tales  of  wonder  must 
be  orally  published.  There  was,  however,  in  the  more 
legitimate  way,  to  wit,  the  accommodation  of  travellers, 
a  real  necessity  for  houses  of  entertainment  of  some 
sort  in  the  fact  that  the  settlements  for  the  most  part 
were  widely  asunder  and  land  travel  obstructed  and 
insecure.  We  of  this  day  of  turnpikes  and  rail-roads 
can  hardly  realize  the  difficulties  of  crossing  streams, 


THE     ANCHOR    TAVERN.  403 

rounding  rocky  hills  and  penetrating  tangled  swamps. 
But  that  these  "  howses  of  intertainement,"  as  time  sped 
on  and  population  increased,  in  many  instances  degen- 
erated into  nuisances  where  drinking  and  lewdness  pre- 
vailed, seems  too  true,  from  the  numerous  restraining 
acts  passed  by  the  Court,  and  the  severe  penalties 
imposed.  It  is  curious  to  observe,  in  passing,  that  in 
our  early  days,  there  was  no  fixed  penalty  for  many 
offences,  but  the  Court  arbitrarily  awarded,  on  convic- 
tion, such  punishment  as  the  case  in  hand  seemed  to 
demand.  The  culprit  had  no  means  for  calculating 
beforehand  the  extent  of  his  penalty,  or  even  its  nature. 

The  old  Anchor,  it  is  a  pleasure  to  record,  main- 
tained its  integrity  and  enjoyed  a  high  reputation  for 
more  than  a  century  and  a  half  The  name,  however, 
was  once  or  twice  changed,  as  the  times  required  some 
new  expression  of  the  landlord's  prejudice  or  political 
sympathy. 

The  Anchor  Tavern  —  or  the  "  Blew  Ankor,"  — 
as  the  original  sign  proclaimed,  was  conspicuously 
situated  on  a  grassy  knoll  a  furlong  or  so  westward 
from  the  bright  little  river  of  Saugus,  on  the  road  from 
Boston  to  Salem,  and  about  midway  between  the  two 
settlements.  There  did  its  unique  sign  creak  a  wel- 
come to  the  wayfarer  from  its  airy  perch  upon  the 
knotty  post  that  stood  in  front  of  the  modest  edifice. 

The  location  of  this  widely  celebrated  hostelry  was 
airy  and  romantic  in  the  extreme.  A  few  rods  eastward 
flowed  the  eccentric  river,  with  lofty  ridges  of  evergreen 
forest  gradually  rising  on  either  side,  and  at  intervals 
disclosing  jagged  crowns  of  porphyry.  Upon  the  south 
a  broad  belt  of  level  marsh  stretched  toward  the  ocean, 
with  a  few  clusters  of  trees,  resembling  dark  islands  in 
a  waveless  sea  of  green.     Beyond  lay  the  great  ocean, 


404  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

calm  and  beautiful  while  the  winds  forbore  their  teasing 
but  raging  and  roaring  when  the  wild  blast  descended. 
Winding  by  the  foot  of  the  hills  was  the  broad  but 
rough  road,  along  which,  on  either  hand,  of  a  winter 
night,  the  Anchor  threw  its  ruddy  beams  to  guide  the 
weary  traveller  to  its  hospitable  portals. 

Modern  inventions  and  improvements  have  made  sad 
havoc  with  many  old  institutions,  putting  to  flight 
romance  and  sentiment  and  defacing  fondly  cherished 
pictures  of  the  past.  One  may  well  exclaim,  alas  for 
the  dear  old  country  inn,  now  no  more.  Rail-roads,  ye 
have  much  to  answer  for  ! 

Well,  there  stood  the  Anchor,  on  its  commanding 
knoll,  flanked  by  half  a  score  of  ancient  forest  trees, 
heroically  breasting  the  hot  rays  of  summer  and  the 
frigid  blasts  of  winter.  As  it  caught  the  first  morning 
beams  it  would  look  complacently  forth  upon  the  col- 
umns of  smoke  that  straggled  up  here  and  there  among 
the  trees,  marking  the  nestling  places  of  the  sturdy 
settlers,  and  seemingly  rejoicing  in  the  very  loneliness 
of  the  prospect. 

The  edifice  was  of  plain  wood,  reared  on  a  rubble- 
stone  basement,  and  innocent  alike  of  pride  and  paint. 
A  rude  bench,  flanking  the  door,  on  either  hand,  and 
intended,  under  favor  of  genial  weather,  to  supply  a 
seat  for  the  village  statesman  or  magistrate,  but  more 
often  occupied  by  the  village  lounger,  the  tired  wayfarer, 
the  sleeping  dog  or  strutting  rooster,  was  a  conspicuous 
adjunct.  Within,  the  tapestry  that  adorned  the  walls 
was  dingy,  misspelled  papers  —  if  there  was  any  such 
thing  as  misspelling  in  those  days  —  giving  all  manner 
of  information,  and  proclaiming  all  manner  of  wants. 
But  nowhere  throughout  the  whole  line  of  Plantations 
could  a  tankard  of  better  flip  or  a  more  savory  bite 


THE    ANCHOR   TAVERN.  405 

for  the  hungry  traveller  be  found.  And  once  within 
its  jolly  precincts  the  sojourner  seemed  safe  from  all 
discomforts  of  the  road  ;  though  possibly  deeming  him- 
self but  questionably  guarded  from  molestation  by  old 
bruin,  who,  stationed  at  the  sign-post,  kept  a  vigilant 
eye  on  all  who  approached  the  circle  which  his  linked 
attachment  permitted  him  to  traverse.  His  woodland 
majesty  evidently  derived  the  greater  pleasure  in  endea- 
voring to  draw  within  his  line  of  walk  the  straying 
swine  and  poultry  ;  but  yet,  having  much  time  on  his 
hands  hardly  anything  came  amiss  for  profit  or  amuse- 
ment ;  and  he  seemed  to  take  a  childish  pride  in  exhib- 
iting his  long  claws  and  sharp  teeth,  especially  to 
strangers. 

Much  of  the  romance  of  the  early  times  of  the  settle- 
ment clusters  around  the  Anchor,  and  many  things 
could  be  related  which  at  this  day  would  gain  little 
credence,  so  extraordinary  were  they  and  so  unlike  any 
occurrences  of  our  time.  It  might  indeed  be  said  that 
its  most  enviable  reputation  did  not  begin  to  wane  till 
the  Turnpike  between  Salem  and  Boston  was  opened, 
in  1803,  and  so  shamelessly  diverted  the  travel  from  its 
vicinage. 

The  ghost  of  the  departed  Anchor,  however,  if  gifted 
with  human  sensibilities,  may  have  had  some  satisfac- 
tion in  seeing  the  prosperity  of  the  Turnpike,  in  its 
turn,  circumvented  by  the  Rail-road. 

A  full  history  of  this  long-distinguished  "  travellers' 
home "  —  for  in  truth  it  was  famous  through  a  period 
of  a  hundred  and  seventy  years  —  with  sketches  of  the 
different  landlords  and  of  the  many  notable  transactions 
beneath  its  roof —  would  form  a  volume  of  exceeding 
interest,  and  grandly  elucidate  important  passages  in 
colonial  and  provincial  history.     Here  the  highest  dig- 


406  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

nitaiies  have  paused  in  their  eastward  journeyings,  and 
here  have  been  entertained  squads,  yea,  regiments  of 
soldiery.  Here  also  have  assembled  the  village  states- 
men and  orators  to  discuss  their  rights  and  wrongs,  as 
well  as  the  humbler  throng  to  gossip  and  dispute ;  to 
say  nothing  of  the  merry  parties  of  youth  and  beauty 
who  gathered  for  the  lively  dance  and  midnight  cheer. 

Of  Joseph  Armitage,  the  first  landlord,  who  opened 
the  establishment  in  or  about  the  year  1643,  something 
will  appear  as  we  proceed.  He  was  among  the  early 
settlers  of  the  Plantation,  and  remained  an  enterprising 
and  hard-working  villager  till  the  infirmities  of  age  bore 
him  down.  By  trade  he  was  a  tailor,  but  like  most 
of  the  pioneer  planters  found  it  necessary  to  apply  him- 
self to  various  pursuits.  On  the  whole,  however,  he 
does  not  seem  to  have  met  with  success  commensurate 
to  his  industry,  and  passed  the  most  of  his  active  life 
in  depressed  circumstances. 

The  Court  files  show  that  in  1669  ^'^^  petitioned  for 
the  payment  of  a  number  of  small  demands  for  the 
entertainment  of  colonial  dignitaries,  which  had  been 
standing  many  years.  Both  Governor  Endicott  and 
Governor  Bradstreet  left  the  Anchor  without  paying 
their  reckoning ;  perhaps,  in  the  expectation  that  the 
demands  would  be  sent  to  the  public  auditor  or  trea- 
surer.    The  quaint  petition  of  Mr.  Armitage  runs  thus  : 

To  the  Honered  Court  now  sitting  at  Sallem :  The  Humble  petition 
of  Joseph  Armitage  Humbly  Sheweth  that  in  the  time  that  I  kept  Ordi- 
nary ther  was  sum  expences  at  my  Hows  by  some  of  the  Honored  magis- 
trates &  Depetys  of  this  County  as  apears  by  ther  bills  charged  oupon 
Auditor  Generall,  which  I  neuer  Receaued.  Therfor  your  Humbell 
petticioner  doth  humbly  request  this  Court  that  they  would  giue  me  an 
Order  to  the  County  Treasurer  for  my  pay  &  so  your  pour  petitioner 
will  ever  pray  for  your  prosperity. 

Joseph  Armitage. 


THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN.  407 

In  answer  to  the  petition  the  two  governors  draw 
orders  for  the  payment  of  the  scores,  which  were  mostly 
for  "  bear  and  cacks,"  [beer  and  cakes,]  "  vitalls,  beear 
&  logen,"  "  beare  &  wyne  att  sevrall  times,"  and  such 
like  entertainment  for  themselves  and  their  travelling 
attendants.  Mr.  Bradstreet,  referring  to  a  charge  under 
date  May  15,  1649,  answers,  "more  for  my  man  & 
horse,  as  hee  returned  home  the  last  yeare  when  I  was  a 
Commissioner,  he  being  deteyned  a  sabboath  day,  6s.  8d." 

There  is  some  evidence  that  Mr  Armitage  was  not 
always  at  peace  with  his  neighbors  ;  but  the  fault  may 
have  been  theirs.  He  was  once  fined  for  not  informing 
against  a  drunken  person  found  in  his  company ;  and 
the  Court  at  one  time  refused  to  allow  him  to  "  draw 
wine,"  or.  in  other  words  to  sell  spirits.  He  died  in 
1680  at  the  ripe  age  of  eighty  years.  The  account  filed 
by  the  administrator  of  his  estate,  gives  a  glimpse 
of  one  or  two  interesting  customs  of  the  time.  This 
item,  for  instance,  occurs  :  "  For  coffin,  vaile,  and  dig- 
ging the  grave,  14s.  In  wine  and  Sider,  for  his  buriall, 
jCz."     His  estate  was  appraised  at  jC6.  2.  6. 

Captain  Thomas  Marshall,  to  whom  occasional 
allusion  will  be  made  as  we  proceed,  was  landlord  of 
the  Anchor  from  about  the  middle  of  century  1600  till 
1689.  He  had  been  a  soldier  under  Cromwell,  and  of 
that  fact  was  very  proud  and  boastful,  often  entertaining 
his  patiently-listening  guests  with  stirring  accounts  of 
his  valor  and  achievements.  He  really  was  well-in- 
formed on  matters  concerning  the  civil  wars,  and  had  a 
happy  faculty  of  exalting  his  own  exploits.  John  Dun- 
ton,  the  London  bookseller  who  travelled  here  in  1686 
remarks  in  his  journal :  "  About  two  of  the  clock  I 
reached  Capt.  Marshall's  house,  which  is  half  way  be- 


408  NOTABLE    THINGS. 

tween  Boston  and  Salem  ;  here  I  staid  to  refresh  nature 
with  a  pint  of  sack  and  a  good  fowl.  Capt.  Marshall  is 
a  hearty  old  gentleman,  formerly  one  of  Oliver's  soldiers, 
upon  which  he  very  much  values  himself"  He  was  a 
captain  in  the  parliamentary  forces,  and  hence  had  a 
legitimate  claim  to  his  title.  His  first  appearance  here 
was  as  early  as  1635,  but  he  returned  to  England  to 
take  a  hand  in  the  sanguinary  commotions.  With  such 
a  landlord  the  Anchor  must  have  been  a  very  popular 
public  resort.  He  died  on  the  23d  of  December,  1689. 
And  as  it  would  be  wearisome  to  speak  individually  of  the 
entire  succession  of  landlords  of  the  Anchor,  but  one  or 
two  more  will  be  introduced  in  this  connection. 

It  was  famous  in  provincial  times  as  Norwood's 
Tavern,  being  kept  for  many  years  by  Zaccheus  Nor- 
wood, after  whose  death  it  was  continued  by  his  widow. 
Its  high  reputation  seems  to  have  been  well  sustained 
during  the  whole  Norwood  administration  ;  and  no  house 
in  New  England,  out  of  the  metropolis,  was  more  cele- 
brated for  its  hospitable  care  of  travellers  or  its  provision 
for  social  entertainments. 

Then  came  along  Josiah  Martin,  an  English  adven- 
turer, who  married  the  widow  Norwood  and  became 
landlord.  He  was  eccentric  and  evidently  at  times  a 
very  disagreeable  character,  though  he  could,  when  he 
chose,successfully  act  the  part  of  a  gentleman.  Occa- 
sionally he  would  conduct  himself  as  if  extremely  pious, 
and  at  other  times  act  as  if  he  were  an  offspring  of  the 
evil  one  himself  Witticisms,  practical  jokes  and  whim- 
sical displays  were  his  chief  entertainments,  and  many 
a  guest  departed  disgusted  by  his  strange  behavior.  It 
is  said  that  he  once,  on  a  hot  summer  Sunday,  forced 


THE   ANCHOR   TAVERN.  4O9 

his  poor  wife  to  accompany  him,  in  a  double  sleigh, 
drawn  by  a  span  of  mettlesome  horses,  in  a  ride  to 
meeting  at  the  Old  Tunnel,  some  two  miles  off,  all  bun- 
dled up  in  winter  robes,  the  sleigh-runners  grating 
horribly  and  striking  a  line  of  fire  on  the  stony  road. 
But  he  became  patriotically  inspired  when  the  Revolu- 
tion broke  out,  shouldered  his  musket  and  went  off, 
never  to  return. 

Landlord  Jacob  Newhall  kept  the  tavern  during 
the  Revolution,  and  in  that  turbulent  period  it  was 
regarded  as  an  institution  most  worthy  to  be  sustained. 
No  Tory  had  quarter  there  and  a  red-coat  was  pursued 
with  turkey-cock  vigor.  Under  Mr.  Martin  the  sign- 
board presented  a  pictured  lion  and  unicorn  ;  but  Mr. 
Newhall  soon  substituted  a  rising  sun,  as  more  in 
accordance  with  his  own  patriotic  aspirations  and  hopes. 
Soldiers  upon  the  march  —  once,  it  is  said,  a  whole  reg- 
iment —  were  often  entertained  there  ;  and  if  they  had 
no  money  their  immediate  wants  were  supplied  and 
future  ability  trusted  for  recompense.  Mr.  Newhall 
kept  the  tavern  till  1807,  and  then  retired,  not  in  pen- 
ury, perhaps,  but  by  no  means  rich  ;  a  condition  attrib- 
utable, no  doubt,  to  his  liberal  way  of  conducting  his 
affairs  and  his  real  benevolence  of  heart. 

It  becomes  necessary  now  to  draw  attention  to  other 
topics  —  topics  connected  with  the  earlier  history  of  the 
Anchor  and  its  vicinage.  The  place  that  once  knew 
that  renowned  house  of  entertainment,  now  knows  it 
no  more.  The  whole  region  has  been  shorn  of  most 
of  its  romantic  features,  and  the  hum  of  business  has 
superseded  the  rural  sounds  that  greeted  the  ears  of  the 
good  fathers  of  the  Plantation. 
R 


410  THE    ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

The  once  famous  locality  known  as  the  Pirate^' 
Glen  is  within  a  half  hour's  walk  of  the  little  upland 
crest  on  which  the  Anchor  Tavern  stood.  There  was 
no  place  in  the  vicinity  more  visited,  in  former  days, 
by  the  curious  and  romantic.  Traditions  of  startling 
interest  are  connected  with  it,  relating  to  the  days 
of  the  sanguinary  old  freebooters. 

It  is  a  deep,  sequestered  ravine  near  the  easterly 
bank  of  the  river,  and  is  even  now  well  worthy  of  a 
visit  by  all  who  have  an  eye  for  nature  in  her  wilder 
aspects.  It  was  towards  fifty  years  ago,  or  to  be  more 
precise,  in  1831^  that  the  writer,  with  a  romancing  student 
made  his  first  descent  into  the  lonely  dell.  The  deso- 
lating arm  of  the  woodcutter  had  not  been  there  for 
many  years  ;  and  it  would  be  difficult  for  one,  now  that 
the  hills  in  the  vicinity  have  been  shorn  of  their  ancient 
forest  vesture,  to  conceive  of  the  wildness  of  the  place. 
By  the  aid  of  some  jottings  made  at  the  time  of  this 
first  visit  he  is  able  to  give  a  sufficiently  exact  descrip- 
tion of  its  appearance  at  that  period. 

Arrived  in  the  Glen,  as  you  face  the  south,  a  dismal 
swamp  lies  before  you.  Upon  your  right,  is  a  wall  of 
dense  forest  growth,  clothing  the  rugged  sides  of  a  hill 
that  towers  far  above  the  tallest  tree  in  the  Glen, 
flanked  by  almost  insurmountable  crags  and  pathless 
wilds.  Upon  your  left  is  a  frowning  battlement  of  rock, 
rivalling  in  height  that  upon  the  other  side,  with  here 
and  there  a  dull  patch  of  soil  —  in  advance  of  which  a 
host  of  huge  hemlocks  rear  themselves,  outstretching 
their  branches  of  dark  glossy  green,  interwoven  so 
thickly  and  interspersed  with  briars  and  thorny  under- 
brush, that  you  could  hardly  tear  your  way  through, 
even  were  it  possible  afterward  to  ascend  the  rock. 
Behind  you  is  the  narrow,  rough  and  winding  footpath 


PIRATES    GLEN.  4I I 

by  which  you  entered.  And  the  first  thought  that 
occurs  as  you  gaze  around  in  this  unhallowed  retreat  is, 
that  should  this  path  be  closed  to  your  egress,  you  are 
incarcerated  in  a  fearful  prison.  If  you  turn  your  eye 
straight  upward,  as  the  ponderous  branches  move  to 
and  fro  you  catch  glimpses  of  the  deep  blue  heavens. 
The  ground  is  always  damp  and  covered  with  that 
viscous  kind  of  moss  so  common  in  low  swampy  places 
of  the  forest.  A  few  protruding  rocks  and  a  fallen 
trunk  or  two  furnish  rude  seats  for  visitors  by  whom 
they  are  readily  occupied, for  one  cannot  descend  hither 
without  toil  and  fatigue.  Here  and  there  too  a  decayed 
stump  may  be  seen,  remnants  of  stately  trees  which 
extended  their  sheltering  branches  over  the  sacrilegious 
heads  of  those  from  whom  the  Glen  received  its  repul- 
sive name. 

Near  the  centre  there  is  an  open  space,  of  limited  ex- 
tent, where,  as  tradition  informs  us,  about  the  middle  of 
century  1600,  stood  a  rude  hut  occupied  by  a  small  band 
of  miserable  pirates,  who,  tired  of  their  bloody  traffic 
on  the  seas,  had  retired  hither,  in  gloomy  seclusion  to 
pass  the  remainder  of  their  days  or  to  avoid  pursuit  and 
the  penalty  they  deserved.  Their  retreat,  however,  as 
tradition  goes  on  to  say,  was  finally  discovered,  and  the 
entire  horde,  with  one  exception,  captured  and  taken 
to  England  by  a  naval  cruiser  which  had  sometime 
before  appeared  on  the  coast,  information  of  their  move- 
ments having  in  a  mysterious  way  been  obtained.  Those 
captured  were  executed.  But  the  one  who  escaped  made 
his  way  through  the  woods  and  found  congenial  quar- 
ters in  a  cave  beneath  a  jagged  rock  —  to  this  day 
known  as  Dungeon  Rock  —  surrounded  by  almost  im- 
penetrable swamp  and  tangled  forest.  He  too  came  to 
a  tragic  end,  the  earthquake  of  1658,  splitting  the  rocky 


412  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN, 

roof  of  his  wretched  home  and  projecting  forward  an 
immense  mass  in  such  a  manner  as  to  close  up  the  only 
apperture  of  ingress  and  egress,  and  entombing  him 
alive.  Tradition,  too,  speaks  of  treasures  buried  by 
them  ;  and  for  the  possession  of  which  attempts  have 
from  time  to  time  been  made  by  the  credulous  and 
avaricious. 

The  hut  of  the  pirates,  as  just  remarked,  is  said  to 
have  stood  near  the  centre  of  the  Glen.  And  one  may 
still  discern  traces  of  the  well  they  dug  and  of  the 
garden  they  planted.  By  climbing  the  tallest  tree  one 
can  scarcely  get  a  glimpse  beyond  the  gloomy  confines, 
though  here  and  there  the  eye  may  be  carried  along 
some  narrow  pass  till  the  view  is  closed  up  by  a  distant 
hill,  nothing  being  perceived  but  the  dark  bosom  of  the 
forest,  undulating  in  the  breeze,  unless,  glancing  over  the 
swamp  the  bright  waters  of  the  Atlantic  may  be  traced, 
drawn  in  a  deep  blue  thread  along  the  southern  horizon. 

Such  and  so  wild  was  the  Pirates'  Glen  in  1831. 
And  no  one  who  had  a  taste  for  the  romantic  could 
have  failed  of  being  compensated  for  the  fatigue  of 
climbing  over  the  rugged  hills  and  receiving  scratches 
from  the  briars  that  choked  up  the  narrow  footpath  by 
which  it  was  entered,  in  the  privilege  of  passing  an 
hour  in  its  dismal  confines.  But  the  guide,  if  one  had 
been  taken,  would  have  cautioned  him  not  to  throw  away 
the  rude  walking  stick  which  he  had  cut  by  the  way- 
side to  assist  him  in  his  progress,  as  he  might  be  fated 
to  encounter  some  hideous  reptile.  Perhaps  the  first 
sound  that  greeted  his  ears  would  have  been  the  ter- 
rifying noise  of  the  rattlesnake  as  he  sported  among 
the  shattered,  moss-covered  rocks  ;  or  he  might  have 
been  startled  on  seeing  the  black  snake  or  brown  adder 
coiling  among  the  shrubbery. 


JOEL    DUNN.  413 

It  was  remarked  that  attempts  had  been  made  at 
various  times  to  discover  the  places  where  the  pirates 
had  hidden  their  treasure,  it  appearing  to  have  been 
taken  for  granted  that  they  had  somewhere  buried 
heaps  of  jewels  and  gold.  It  will  not  be  necessary 
to  occupy  time  in  giving  a  detailed  account  of  the 
labors  of  Mr.  Marble,  who  in  1852  commenced  his 
herculean  task  at  Dungeon  Rock,  in  the  hope  of  exhu- 
ming treasure  which  supposed  spiritual  revelators  had 
announced  to  be  lying  there  beside  the  moldering 
bones  of  the  lone  outlaw  who  escaped  from  the  Glen, 
as  they  form  a  part  of  the  history  of  our  own  day  ;  and 
therefore  we  will  proceed  to  treat  of  earlier  events. 

A  conspicuous  personal  ornament  of  the  Anchor, 
for  a  considerable  time,  was  an  individual  generally 
known  by  the  expressive  nickname  of  Bowlegs,  the 
occasion  of  which  designation  can  easily  be  imagined. 
His  dress  name,  however,  if  not  his  true  one,  seems  to 
have  been  Joel  Dunn. 

It  was  upon  *a  gusty  and  drizzly  November  night 
that  he  came  limping  down  the  Boston  road,  apparently 
so  weary  and  chilled  as  to  occasionally  stagger  into  a 
bush  or  ditch  by  the  wayside.  He  was  dressed  in 
rather  grotesque  style,  having  enormous  shoes  of  uncur- 
ried  leather,  with  gaping  rents  through  which  the  miry 
ooze  had  free  passage  ;  torn  and  besmeared  gray  leg- 
gins  ;  leather  small-clothes,  begrimmed  with  pitch  and 
grease  ;  and  over  all  a  rusty-brown  hat,  flabby  and 
flapping  in  its  drenched  condition,  with  brim  enor- 
mously wide  excepting  where  the  hand  of  time  or  some- 
thing more  mischievous  had  torn  off"  samples  of  various 
size.  A  belt  of  fox-skin  encircled  his  waist,  seemingly 
intended   for   the   preservation   of  his   loose  personaJ 


414  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN, 

property  —  an  Indian  pipe,  a  small  package  or  two 
done  up  in  scraps  of  skin,  a  rusty  sheath-knife,  and  so 
on.  This  was  a  convenient  arrangement,  as  it  left  his 
hands  at  liberty  for  the  management  of  the  long  staff 
which  the  limp  and  curving  infirmity  of  his  legs  ren- 
dered it  necessary  for  him  to  carry.  His  beard  was 
long  and  frowzy,  and  the  visible  parts  of  his  face  showed 
the  footprints  of  smallpox. 

Arrived  opposite  the  Anchor,  he  made  an  unsteady 
pause,  and  having,  with  as  close  attention  as  he  could 
command,  eyed  the  creaking  sign  for  a  few  moments, 
he  crouched  a  little,  with  his  hands  on  his  knees,  for  the 
purpose  of  peering  into  the  bar-room  window  that  threw 
its  ruddy  light  out  upon  the  rain-puddles  and  rutty 
cart-path.  Then,  as  if  satisfied  with  his  observation,  he 
made  a  lunge  forward,  and  fell  exhausted,  his  body 
resting  in  the  mire  and  his  head  upon  the  edge  of  the 
bench  by  the  door.  The  door  flew  open,  for  the  fall 
was  heard,  and  Captain  Marshall,  who  was  at  the  time 
landlord,  and  who  was  never  known  to  turn  the  needy, 
distressed  or  forlorn  empty  away,  his  benign  maxim 
being  —  first  relieve  distress,  then  inquire  —  soon  had 
him  comfortably  installed  on  the  settle,  before  the  brisk 
fire  and  with  a  mug  of  spiced  flip  at  his  lips.  He  soon 
began  to  revive,  and  in  a  wavering  but  sufficiently 
distinct  voice,  was  able  to  ask  for  "  mbre."  The  en- 
couraging symptoms  continued,  till,  within  a  couple 
of  hours  he  was  able  to  take  a  few  whiffs  at  his  pipe, 
and  then  eat  a  generous  slice  of  bear-steak. 

From  the  little  information  gathered  at  that  time,  he 
appeared  to  be  a  tramp  who  had  drifted  up  from  Ply- 
mouth colony  —  the  word  tramp  at  that  time  indicating 
those  who  travelled  from  place  to  place,  procuring  a 
subsistence  by  doing  small  jobs  in  the  families  by  whom 


JOEL    DUNN.  415 

they  were  entertained.  Some  were  cobblers,  and  car- 
ried about  a  few  tools  and  bits  of  leather ;  some  were 
tinkers  and  after  a  rude  manner  mended  pots  and  pans  ; 
some  were  peddlers  of  small  wares  ;  and  some  were 
accustomed  to  let  themselves  out  as  laborers  for  a  few 
weeks  at  a  time.  There  were  not  many  of  that  shift- 
less, beggarly  and  often  vicious  class  at  this  day  found 
drifting  about  the  country  and  by  us  called  tramps  ; 
still,  there  were  some,  as  the  laws  of  Draco  would 
fail  to  exterminate  a  race  that  nature  herself  saw  fit  to 
produce. 

One  of  the  packages  secured  to  the  unique  belt  of  the 
wayfarer  was  supposed  by  the  worthy  Captain  to  con- 
tain the  tools  of  some  handicraft ;  but  for  the  present 
he  abstained  from  all  curious  questioning.  The  several 
mugs  of  flip  went  down  as  if  there  were  no  possible 
objection  below  to  their  reception,  and  that  pleased  the 
host  as  it  was  complimentary  to  his  brewing. 

After  a  long  night's  rest  the  straggler  was  able  to  stir 
about  some  light  labor  and  manifested  a  desire  to  make 
himself  useful.  By  night  he  had  done  a  fair  day's 
work  at  shelling  corn.  And  so  he  kept  on,  from  day  to 
day,  an  inmate  at  sufferance,  indeed,  but  with  increas- 
ing approbation  ;  his  sphere  of  usefulness  constantly 
enlarging  till  it  seemed  as  if  the  exact  niche  nature  had 
designed  him  to  occupy  had  at  last  been  found.  He 
did  all  sorts  of  jobs,  from  exhibiting  the  tricks  of  the 
bear  at  the  signnpost  to  the  preparation  of  bar-room 
drinks  ;  was  a  good  hunter,  and  the  game  he  brought 
from  the  woods  and  marshes  to  the  table  of  the  Anchor 
was  the  delight  of  many  an  epicurean  guest.  But  above 
all  his  other  accomplishments  in  the  field  of  manual 
labor,  perhaps,  was  his  skill  in  wood-chopping.  That 
was  a  very  important  employment  in  those  days,  and 


4l5  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN, 

through  it  he  soon  became  known  far  beyond  the  pre- 
cincts of  the  Anchor. 

Of  Joel's  mental  traits  sufficient  will  appear  as  we 
proceed  ;  but  it  is  well  to  admit,  here,  that  he  was  the 
victim  of  one  frailty  of  a  serious  nature  ;  and  that  frailty 
was,  no  doubt,  the  cause  of  his  ill-success  in  life,  for  he 
had  such  skill  in  various  ways  that  would  under  differ- 
ent circumstances  have  ensured  him  a  good  livelihood. 
He  was  given  to  strong  drink  ;  in  short  he  was  a  toper, 
and  must  have  his  times  of  elevation.  Not  all  the 
scoldings  of  Captain  Marshall  or  the  solemn  admonitions 
of  the  good  minister  Whiting  could  lead  him  to  forego 
his  cups.  He  was  in  middle  age  at  the  time  he  appeared 
at  the  Anchor,  and  was  presently  in  good  health  with 
the  exception  of  a  slight  tremulousness,  occasioned, 
probably,  by  his  habits.  He  had  picked  up  a  great 
many  shreds  of  information  during  his  wanderings,  had 
quick  perceptions,  and  a  waggish  turn  that  did  much  to 
interest  and  amuse  the  class  accustomed  to  assemble 
in  the  bar-room  during  the  long  winter  evenings. 

The  good  nature  of  Joel,  and  his  readiness  to  do  any 
neighbor  a  favor,  not  unfrequently  led  him  into  difficul- 
ties such  as  are  apt  to  overtake  those  who  are  disposed 
to  be  accommodating.  Many  pages  might  be  filled  by 
accounts  of  his  mishaps  from  this  source ;  and  an  in- 
stance which  comes  to  mind  at  this  moment  may  be 
given. 

There  was  a  widow  woman  in  the  neighborhood,  who 
kept  a  cow,  and  did  a  little  at  flax-spinning,  weaving, 
herb-gathering,  and  so  forth,  sufficient  to  give  her  a 
tolerable  living.  She  did  most  of  the  labor  about  the 
premises  with  her  own  hands  ;  but  there  was  now  and 
then  occasion  for  the  help  of  a  masculine  neighbor, 
and  that  was  readily  obtained,  for  she  was  held  in  much 


JOEL    DUNN.  417 

esteem  throughout  the  Plantation.  Joel  used  to  drop 
in  once  in  a  while  for  a  chat,  and  when  he  saw  the  need 
would  offer  his  services.  His  favors  were  gratefully 
acknowledged  and  the  two  became  quite  friendly  ;  inso- 
much that  gossip  pointed  to  a  final  matrimonial  com- 
panionship, though  it  is  not  probable  that  the  widow 
ever  had  a  thought  in  that  direction  whatever  fancies 
might  have  disturbed  the  habitual  current  of  Joel's 
thoughts. 

The  widow  had  a  piece  of  marsh,  lying  along  the 
western  bank  of  the  river,  south  of  where  the  Turnpike 
was  laid  out,  generations  after,  and  on  a  certain  occasion 
when  the  grass  needed  cutting,*the  man  who  had  agreed 
to  do  the  labor  went  off  on  a  fishing  excursion.  Joel 
happening  along,  was  informed  of  her  dilemma,  and  at 
once  offered  to  go  himself  and  make  the  hay.  Such  an 
offer,  in  such  a  strait,  was  not  to  be  refused,  and  soon 
after  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  marsh,  with  scythe  and 
rake,  and  otherwise  armed  with  a  basket  of  provision 
and  jug  of  drink  prepared  by  the  careful  hand  of  the 
widow.  Arrived  at  the  scene  of  action,  he  at  once  fell 
lustily  to  work  and  soon  had  sufficient  for  a  respectable 
stack  spread  out  for  the  maturing  smiles  of  the  sun.  He 
then  partook  of  his  rations  and  yielded  himself  up  to 
gentle  reverie,  the  widow  herself,  perhaps,  furnishing 
the  rallying  point  of  his  discursive  thoughts  ;  the  con- 
tents of  the  jug  all  the  while  sensibly  diminishing  by 
his  frequent  absent-minded  sips. 

When  the  declining  sun  gave  warning,  he  vigorously 
exercised  the  rake  and  the  stack  rapidly  grew  upon  the 
tide-stakes.  The  jug  by  this  time  was  quite  empty, 
and  he  felt  like  taking  a  short  nap,  before  proceeding  to 
give  the  stack  its  final  rounding-off.  And  where  could 
he  repose  with  more  comfort  than  on  the  stack  itself.'' 
R*  27 


41 8  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

Up  he  mounted,  and  was  soon  oblivious  to  all  things 
sublunary  excepting  such  as  obtrude  through  the  me- 
dium of  dreams.  Night  drew  on,  and  he  still  slept. 
The  retiring  sea-birds  wheeled  about  him  as  if  curious 
to  know  what  kept  him  there,  and  then,  screaming  an 
unsatisfied  good-night,  soared  away  to  their  wave-girt 
homes.  How  long  he  slept  he  did  not  know  ;  but  when 
he  awoke  the  moon  was  just  rising  over  the  water,  and 
as  he  became  conscious  of  his  surroundings  he  was 
startled  at  hearing  the  rippling  of  the  tide  about  the 
base  of  his  saline  couch.  He  hardly  dared  to  move, 
but  yet  felt  the  necessity  of  ascertaining  the  position 
of  affairs.  Being  satisfied  that  the  base  of  the  stack 
was  wearing  away,  and  not  knowing  how  deep  the 
water  already  was,  nor  whether  the  tide  was  ebbing  or 
flowing,  he  grew  very  much  alarmed.  However,  having 
good  lungs,  he  set  up  a  series  of  terrific  yells  that  rang 
over  the  expanse  with  a  power  that  might  have  appalled 
the  very  fishes  in  the  river  ;  and  were  declared  to  have 
been  heard  even  at  the  door  of  the  Anchor,  where 
they  were  taken  to  be  the  cries  of  some  wild  beast. 

Joel  could  not  gain  a  very  satisfactory  view  of  his 
peril,  because  by  leaning  over,  he  would  be  in  danger 
of  sliding  off,  head  foremost,  and  thus  abruptly  closing 
his  earthly  account ;  but  there  was  no  doubt  that  his 
stack,  lightly  thrown  up  as  it  was,  was  fast  being  under- 
mined and  would  presently  fall,  like  a  house  upon  the 
sand,  of  which  he  had  somewhere  read.  Then,  to  his 
horror,  he  descried  off  upon  the  river,  a  huge  nonde- 
script monster,  his  black  sides  and  lank,  dripping  fins, 
glistening  in  the  moonlight,  dashing  on  towards  him. 
He  was  almost  petrified  at  the  sight,  but  yet  managed 
now  and  then  again  to  make  the  welkin  ring  with  his 
shouts  and  yells.     The  night  wind,  too,  seemed  ambi- 


JOEL    DUNN.  419 

tious  to  share  in  his  destruction  by  sending  merciless 
blasts  against  the  side  of  the  stack,  and  setting  the 
loose  locks  flying  off  over  the  waves.  There  seemed  to 
be  no  escape  for  him,  as  the  stack  was  destined  to  be 
rent  asunder  by  the  wind  or  demolished  by  the  tide. 

But  the  object  of  greatest  dread  was  the  on-coming 
monster  of  the  sea.  On,  on  he  came ;  and  as  the 
distance  waned  Joel's  terror  waxed,  till  he  suddenly 
sank  away,  entirely  unconscious,  not  to  return  to  a 
realization  of  earthly  perils,  till  the  cold  waves  had  him 
in  their  embrace.  His  treacherous  bed  had  yielded, 
and  its  dispersed  remains  were  floating  about  quite 
unconcerned  as  to  the  predicament  in  which  they  had 
left  him.  His  cold  bath,  however,  soon  led  him  to  see 
the  necessity  of  immediate  action.  A  thump  against 
the  tide-stakes,  on  which  he  had  been  in  great  danger 
of  impalement,  assured  him  that  the  water  was  not  very 
deep,  and  he  presently  stood  erect,  dripping  and  chilled, 
to  be  sure,  but  determined  to  do  his  utmost  for  his  own 
deliverance.  What  course  to  take  he  did  not  know,  as 
deep  creeks  or  the  river  itself  might  intervene. 

To  his  astonishment  he  now  heard  human  voices  ; 
and  turning  with  a  shudder  toward  the  quarter  where 
he  had  last  seen  the  approaching  monster,  his  eyes  were 
indeed  opened  and  he  perceived  that  the  object  at  which 
he  had  been  so  foolishly  terrified  was  but  a  boat.  Some 
fishermen  had  been  belated  and  were  rowing  up  the 
river.  They  had  heard  his  despairing  shouts  and  were 
cautiously  wading  toward  him,  not  knowing  what  they, 
on  their  part,  might  be  destined  to  encounter.  How- 
ever, on  drawing  near  they  recognized  their  neighbor 
Bowlegs,  and  without  stopping  a  moment  to  inquire  by 
what  means  he  came  into  his  strange  predicament,  set 
about  his  rescue. 


420  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

They  were  not  long  in  getting  back  to  the  boat  with 
him  ;  but  in  their  drenched  and  chilled  condition  had 
no  inclination  to  enjoy  the  humorous  side  of  the  adven- 
ture. Once  safely  in  the  boat,  Joel's  spirits  revived 
with  wonderful  speed,  aided  a  little,  perhaps,  by  his 
repeated  embraces  of  the  unexhausted  liquor  keg  with 
which  the  boat  was  provided.  He  insisted  on  doing 
full  duty  at  the  oars  ;  and  as  they  drew  near  the  landing 
place  could  not  restrain  himself  from  breaking  forth  in 
a  right  jolly  song  that  rang  stirringly  even  to  the  hills 
at  the  foot  of  which  nestled  the  widow's  cozy  home. 

The  whole  story  of  Joel's  adventure  was  soon  known 
to  every  one  in  the  settlement ;  and  it  did  not  circulate 
free  from  fictitious  embellishment ;  but  he  endured  the 
raillery  and  jokings  that  fell  to  his  lot,  with  a  patience 
indicating  that  he  considered  them  fairly  his  due. 

Joseph  Jenks,  the  younger,  who  labored  with  his 
father,  at  the  Iron  Works,  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the 
Anchor,  in  Captain  Marshall's  time.  He  was  opinion- 
ated, and  quite  free  to  express  his  estimation  of  others. 
But  he  was  intelligent,  generous  and  companionable 
and  withal  an  ingenious  worker  on  such  machinery  as 
was  required  in  the  industrial  arts  of  those  days.  For 
these  reasons,  if  no  other,  he  naturally  stood  high  in 
the  community.  On  the  long  winter  evenings  he  was 
always  welcome  in  the  bar-room  or  the  parlor,  and 
regarded  as  one  of  the  chief  entertainers  ;  joined  zeal- 
ously in  the  debates,  and  being  among  those  best  in- 
formed on  current  topics,  received  marked  attention. 
With  the  irrepressible  landlord  he  very  well  agreed  on 
political  questions,  and  few  exceeded  him  in  fervor 
of  lamentation  over  the  restoration  of  the  monarchy  or 
in  denunciation  of  those  through  whom  it  was  brought 


JOSEPH   JENKS.  421 

about.  His  loyal  opponents,  at  one  time,  not  being 
able  to  overcome  him  in  argument,  resorted  to  the 
questionable  expedient  of  accusing  him  of  treason. 

On  the  first  of  April,  1660,  he  was  brought  before 
the  Court,  and  several  persons  summoned  to  testify 
against  him.  One  Nicholas  Pinion  deposed  that  he 
"  did  heere  Joseph  Jinks,  jun,  say  that  if  he  hade  the 
king  heire,  he  wold  cutte  of  his  head  and  make  a  foot- 
ball of  it."  Thomas  Tower  testified  that  when  the 
king's  name  was  mentioned  Mr.  Jenks  said,  "  I  should 
rather  that  his  head  were  as  his  father's  rather  than  he 
should  come  to  England  to  set  up  popery  there."  The 
case  remained  undecided  for  some  time  and  he  was  kept 
imprisoned.  He  defended  himself  in  a  long  letter  to 
the  Court,  and  the  final  decision  was  that  the  words 
"  were  all  too  weak  to  prove  him  guilty  of  treason." 

Captain  Marshall  was  muoh  exercised  by  the  proceed- 
ings, exerted  himself  energetically  in  behalf  of  the 
accused,  and  on  his  enlargement  had  a  glorious  banquet 
and  illumination  at  the  Anchor.  On  the  very  day  of 
the  banquet,  as  one  of  the  obnoxious  accusers  was 
passing  the  tavern,  the  Captain  happened  to  be  riding 
up  toward  the  door,  and  what  should  his  unruly  horse 
do  but  sheer  in  just  such  a  manner  as  to  force  the 
odious  individual  to  spring  for  safety  toward  the  sign- 
post ;  so  near  it,  in  fact,  that  the  watchful  bear  was 
able  to  scratch  acquaintance  so  effectually  as  to  send  the 
blood  trickling  down  his  limbs.  And  other  accidents, 
in  a  similar  way  annoying,  kept  happening  to  the  con- 
scientious accusers,  for  a  long  time  after. 

A  pleasant  story  is  told  of  a  bewitching  incident  by 
which  Mr.  Jenks's  bright  little  sister  Deborah,  or  Dolly 
as  she  seems  to  have  been  familiarly  called,  came  to  be 


422  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

the  object  of  pleasant  gossip.  She  was  a  sparkHng  gem 
among  the  rustic  maidens  of  the  settlement,  and  it  was 
determined  by  her  ambitious  parents  and  her  affection- 
ate brother,  who  was  considerably  her  senior,  that  she 
should  receive  as  finished  an  education  as  could  be 
procured  by  their  somewhat  limited  means.  To  that 
end,  it  was  arranged  with  the  minister,  Mr.  Whiting, 
that  she  should  become  a  member  of  the  select  class 
of  misses  who  met  at  the  parsonage  two  or  three  times 
a  week  to  receive  such  instruction  both  in  polite  de- 
portment and  book  studies,  as  he  and  his  accomplished 
wife,  who  belonged  to  the  English  nobility,  were  so  well 
able  to  impart. 

Dolly  was  sprightly,  amiable  and  apt  in  study,  and 
soon  became  a  favorite  in  the  little  school.  She  usually, 
when  the  weather  was  not  stormy,  walked  down  from 
her  home,  unattended,  overlooking  the  loneliness  of  the 
road  in  the  charming  variety  of  the  scenery  and  the 
many  romantic  attractions  ;  well  knowing  that  an  atten- 
tive brother  would  always  come  down,  towards  night, 
to  escort  her  home. 

On  one  occasion,  however,  it  happened  that  the  good 
brother  was  delayed  till  the  twilight  had  well  nigh  faded 
away  into  night.  Her  task  was  concluded,  and  she 
stood  impatiently  gazing  out  of  the  window  upon  the 
bed  of  bright  flowers,  twirling  her  wreathed  hat  by  the 
wampum  string  which  an  Indian  girl,  a  companion  of 
many  of  her  woodland  rompings,  had  given  her.  Pres- 
ently there  came  a  rap  at  the  door,  and  she  hastened 
to  respond  to  the  summons.  Swinging  the  door  wide 
open,  in  her  usually  ardent  manner,  she  threw  her  arms 
about  the  neck  of  the  supposed  brother  and  bestowed 
a  few  as  fervid  kisses  as  loving  sister  could  bestow  or 
loving:  brother  could  desire.     Not   meeting  with   the 


•     JOSEPH   JENKS.  423 

accustomed  return,  she  drew  back  and  on  taking  one 
glimpse  at  the  face  before  her,  sprang  aside  in  intense 
maidenly  confusion,  ejaculating,  "  Why,  why,  what  have 
I  done  !  you  are  not  my  brother  !  "  Dashing  away,  she 
sought  Mrs.  Whiting,  and  unburdened  her  fluttering 
heart,  beseeching  her  to  go  instantly  and  explain  to  the 
astonished  stranger  the  circumstances  of  her  mistake. 

It  turned  out  that  the  disturbing  caller  was  a  young 
Cambridge  student  who  had  been  sent  by  his  Hebrew 
teacher  to  get  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Whiting  on  some 
knotty  question  arising  in  the  course  of  his  study  of 
that  language,  for  the  minister  was  known  as  one  of  the 
best  Hebrew  scholars  in  the  Colony.  The  student,  in 
his  turn,  besought  Mrs.  Whiting  to  recall  the  fair  apolo- 
gist, as  nothing  could  be  more  agreeable  to  him  than  a 
proper  introduction  after  such  a  rapturous  greeting. 
Mrs.  Whiting,  probably  entering  somewhat  into  the 
humor  of  the  thing,  readily  summoned  in  the  blushing 
Dolly.  But  she  was  coy  and  he  diffident ;  so  that 
scarcely  a  word  was  spoken  at  the  embarrassing  inter- 
view ;  and  what  else  could  have  been  expected. 

Just  as  Dolly  left  the  room  another  rap  was  heard  at 
the  door  ;  and  this  time,  sure  enough,  it  was  the  brother. 
Good-nights  were  speedily  interchanged,  and  the  brother 
and  sister  departed,  their  homeward  path  lighted  by  the 
gathering  stars. 

It  somehow  happened  that  the  difficulties  of  the  young 
student  with  his  Hebrew  lessons  began  presently  to 
very  much  increase,  so  that  he  was  obliged  more  and 
more  often  to  seek  the  assistance  of  Mr.  Whiting ;  and 
what  was  a  little  remarkable  he  had  to  come  on  the 
very  days  when  Dolly's  class  met.  And  furthermore,  it 
repeatedly  happened,  on  pleasant  days,  that  he  was 
coming  down  the  lonely  road  at  the  very  time  when  she 


424  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

came  tripping  along.  Of  course  they  saluted  each 
other ;  and  being  bound  for  the  same  place,  what  more 
natural  than  that  they  should  stroll  along  side  by  side 
and  talk  of  the  balmy  air  and  lovely  scenery.  Nor 
should  it  be  thought  wonderful  or  indecorous  if  when 
they  felt  fatigued  they  should  sit  down  on  a  rock  by 
the  wayside  to  rest,  or  that  he  should  deviate  a  little 
to  gather  for  her  a  white  lily  or  brilliant  cardinal. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  pursue  minor  details.  Their 
meetings  became  more  and  more  frequent  and  less  and 
less  reserved.  A  cordial  friendship  was  established  ; 
and  that  was  succeeded  by  true  love.  The  temperament 
of  both  was  ardent,  their  conduct  discreet,  and  the 
friends  of  neither  found  occasion  to  object  to  a  final 
union. 

The  young  man  diligently  pursued  his  studies,  grad- 
uated, and  in  due  time  settled  in  an  honorable  profession 
in  Boston.  Dolly  with  renewed  vigor  pursued  her 
studies  under  the  guidance  of  the  good  Mr.  Whiting 
and  his  refined  wife,  and  soon  took  rank  among  the  most 
accomplished  young  ladies  in  the  Bay  Colony. 

As  has  already  appeared,  the  clergy  of  that  period 
were  not  permitted  to  perform  the  marriage  ceremony, 
certain  magistrates  being  specially  commissioned  for 
the  agreeable  office.  Captain  Marshall  was  thus  com- 
missioned, and  ever  held  himself  ready  to  discharge  the 
duty  designed  to  make  others  so  happy.  In  due  time 
our  young  friends  were  prepared  to  apply  for  his  ser- 
vices ;  and  in  preparation  for  the  delightsome  occasion 
he  spent  more  time  in  brushing,  combing  and  otherwise 
sprucing  up,  and  in  mentally  conning  his  accustomed 
formula,  than  he  had  ever  done  before  on  such  a  call. 
He  would  have  preferred  that  the  ceremony  should 
have  taken  place  at  the  Anchor,  as  usual  —  for  he  had 


JOSEPH   JENKS.  425 

a  chamber,  which  he  called  his  bridal  chamber,  in  which 
he  always  desired  to  bind  together  the  loving  hearts  — 
but  that  the  friends  would  not  consent  to.  The  charm- 
ing little  cottage  home  of  the  bride  was  to  be  the  scene 
of  the  blissful  rite.  And  there,  upon  a  delicious  day  in 
early  autumn,  the  twain  were  made  one,  and  soon 
departed  for  their  home  in  Boston,  amid  the  warmest 
congratulations  of  friends  and  villagers.  Many  happy 
years  were  in  store  for  them,  and  before  they  were  laid 
beside  each  other,  in  the  old  burying  ground  on  Tre- 
mont  street,  there  was  a  circle  of  grandchildren  around 
them,  and  they  had  even  begun  to  hear  the  prattle 
of  one  or  two  of  the  next  degree. 

But  a  word  or  two  more  of  our  friend  Joseph  Jenks,  jr. 
As  has  been  intimated,  he  was  accustomed  to  express 
himself  rather  freely  on  political  topics  and  once  or 
twice  suffered  from  his  unguarded  remarks ;  notably 
about  the  time  of  the  Restoration,  which  to  him  was  an 
event  of  extreme  vexation.  It  was  natural  enough  that 
he  should  frequently  visit  the  Anchor,  for  it  was  the 
grand  meeting  place  for  discussions  on  public  affairs  as 
well  as  for  social  gossip.  But  he  should  not  have  been 
there  too  much  at  night,  for  he  had  a  wife  at  home. 
That  he  had  affection  for  her,  too,  and  acted  the  part  of 
an  indulgent  husband  cannot  be  doubted.  '  As  she  was  a 
lady  of  some  account  among  the  more  fashionable  of  the 
little  community,  and  withal  comely  in  person,  he  took 
pleasure  in  seeing  her  bedecked  in  such  a  manner  that 
the  jewel  should  lose  no  lustre  through  an  unbecoming 
setting.  Here  again  he  was  brought  into  trouble,  for 
the  watchful  Court,  in  a  series  of  sumptuary  enactments, 
sought  to  discourage  every  species  of  extravagance ; 
and  on  the  29th  of  June,  1652,  at  the  Quarterly  session, 


426  THE    ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

this  presentment  was  made :  "  We  present  Ester,  the 
wife  of  Joseph  Jynkes,  Junior,  ffor  wearing  silver  lace." 
It  may  well  be  presumed  that  this  presentment  was  the 
subject  of  vehement,  lingual  agitation  at  the  Anchor. 
The  sumptuary  laws,  which  reached  almost  every  de- 
partment of  social  and  domestic  life,  had  strong  advo- 
cates as  well  as  strong  opponents.  It  is  said  that  the 
disputes  touching  this  judicial  proceeding  occasioned  a 
coldness  between  Mr.  Jenks  and  Captain  Marshall  that 
continued  till  the  next  time  they  met,  by  invitation  of 
the  latter,  at  a  chowder  party  on  Pines  Point ;  then  all 
differences  vanished,  for  one  of  the  Captain's  chowders 
was  sui^cient  to  allay  the  animosities  of  a  whole  neigh- 
borhood. The  coldness  can  hardly  be  accounted  for  in 
view  of  their  agreement  on  the  great  political  questions 
of  the  day  ;  but  it  may  be  presumed  that  the  vigilant 
old  soldier  could  not  brook  anything  bearing  a  sem- 
blance tQ  cavalier  fashions. 

It  would  not  be  necessary  to  state,  were  it  known, 
how  long  Joel  Dunn  remained  an  inmate  of  the  Anchor. 
But  he  finally  became  matrimonially  inclined  ;  and  there 
being  in  the  neighborhood  a  hoyden  widow  —  not,  how- 
ever, the  one  for  whom  he  underwent  such  peril  on  the 
salt  marsh  —  who  happened  to  be  inclined  in  the  same 
direction,  a  bargain  was  soon  struck,  and  by  the  official 
interposition  of  Captain  Marshall  the  two  presently 
became  one.  They  settled  down  to  quiet  domestic  life 
in  a  small  cottage  near  the  Anchor,  and  there  they 
reared  a  little  family.  He  continued  to  be  largely  em- 
ployed about  the  tavern,  though  as  a  profession  he  fol- 
lowed the  more  dignified  calling  of  woodcutter. 

It  seems  as  if  some  people  were  fated  to  undergo 
more  than  a  fair  share  of  mishaps  and  strange  adven- 


THE    DUNGEON    ROCK.  427 

tures  ;  and  judging  from  the  accounts  we  have  of  Joel 
he  must  have  been  one  of  that  class.  Circumstances 
often  bring  such  people  into  greater  prominence  than 
any  quality  of  their  own  would  seem  to  warrant.  But 
in  the  frightful  scene  at  Dungeon  Rock,  on  the  night 
of  the  great  earthquake  of  1658,  if  it  truly  happened  as 
he  persistently  declared,  he  was  anything  but  a  super- 
numerary. 

In  speaking,  some  pages  back,  of  the  capture  of  the 
miserable  occupants  of  Pirates'  Glen,  it  was  remarked 
that  one  escaped  and  found  his  way  to  the  Dungeon 
Rock,  where,  in  the  cave  beneath,  he  met  his  terrible 
death  ;  the  convulsion  projecting  forward  a  huge  mass, 
closing  up  the  entrance,  and  entombing  him  alive.  The 
name  of  this  outcast  was  Thomas  Veal.  So  runs  the 
tradition. 

That  there  is  a  liberal  share  of  fiction  interwoven 
with  the  history  of  this  romantic  spot  may  be  granted  ; 
but  the  tremendous  effects  of  the  earthquake  are  yet 
plainly  visible  ;  and  the  view  from  the  summit  of  the 
cliff,  and  the  wild  scenery  by  which  it  is  environed,  will 
well  repay  a  visit. 

The  Dungeon  Rock  is  one  of  the  highest  elevations 
within  the  territorial  limits  of  the  old  Third  Plantation. 
And  though  still  surrounded  by  much  that  is  charm- 
ing to  the  lover  of  nature  in  her  more  untamed  aspects, 
it  is  yet  true  that  the  woodsman's  ax  has  destroyed  many 
of  the  most  interesting  features.  Well  does  the  writer 
remember  his  first  visit.  It  was  in  1832,  at  which  time, 
and  for  many  years  after,  it  was  difficult  for  any  but  an 
experienced  woodsman  to  find,  there  being  not  even  a 
cartway  —  nothing  but  what  were  called  rabbit  paths 
running  here  and  there  about  the  swamps  by  which  it 


428  THE    ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

was  flanked.  And  jottings  of  this  visit,  too,  like  those 
of  his  first  visit  to  the  Pirates'  Glen,  made  at  the  time, 
enable  him  to  recall  a  tolerably  exact  picture. 

Taking  the  rough  woodland  road  that  enters  Pine 
Hill  district,  from  Walnut  street,  it  was  pursued,  with 
an  occasional  detour  for  the  purpose  of  avoiding  sloughs 
and  miry  hollows  till  a  plain,  somewhat  elevated,  opened 
westwardly.  Striking  off  here,  crossing  the  plain  and 
penetrating  a  deep  valley  where  many  huge  pines  reared 
themselves,  with  here  and  there  a  tall,  graceful  hemlock, 
the  damp  sward  being  almost  covered  by  the  dark  green 
leaves  of  the  checkerberry  plant,  daintily  studded  with 
scarlet  berries  and  with  the  curling  winter-green  wind- 
ing in  every  direction,  a  steep  hill  was  ascended,  the 
progress  being  impeded  by  the  barricades  of  shattered 
rock,  decayed  branches  and  rank  undergrowth.  From 
this  hill  was  gained  the  first  glimpse  of  the  famous 
Dungeon  Rock.  The  character  of  the  scenery  and 
condition  of  the  precinct  being  thus,  only  fifty  years  ago, 
how  must  they  have  been  two  centuries  before  —  back 
in  the  very  infancy  of  the  Plantation.'' 

Near  the  summit  of  the  hill  just  described,  in  the 
memorable  year  1658,  a  group  of  oaks  and  walnuts 
stood.  The  underbrush  had  been  cleared  away  and  a 
rude  cabin  erected  for  the  woodcutter  who  now  and 
then  pursued  his  labors  in  that  lonely  quarter  of  the 
forest,  furnishing  him  with  occasional  shelter  from  the 
fiercer  instalments  of  storm  by  day  and  from  the  prowl- 
ing beast  by  night,  whenever  ill-fortune  compelled  him 
to  pass  the  slow  hours  in  that  wild  region.  A  rusty 
horseshoe,  nailed  to  the  lintel,  was  deemed  potent  to 
keep  at  bay  all  stragglers  from  the  unseen  world  below, 
and  within,  a  rude  fireplace  enabled  him  to  secure  the 
comforts  of  a  fire,  while  a  few  battered  utensils,  contrib- 


THE    DUNGEON    ROCK,  429 

uted  by  benevolent  townspeople,  furnished  the  means 
of  serving  a  meal  if  provisions  were  at  hand. 

It  was  in  this  solitary  place  and  upon  a  stump  just  in 
front  of  the  cabin  entrance  that  our  friend  Joel  Dunn, 
according  to  his  own  account,  sat  himself  down,  one 
wild  afternoon,  in  the  autumn  of  the  above-named  event- 
ful year,  1658,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  a  little  rest 
before  commencing  his  tramp  through  the  pathless 
woods,  to  his  cottage  home,  near  the  Anchor ;  a  dis- 
tance of  some  two  miles.  He  had  been  hard  at  work 
all  day,  cutting  and  quartering  logs  to  be  piled  on  the 
plain  below,  to  season  for  the  next  year's  fuel. 

Joel  well  imagined  that  he  was  the  only  human  being 
in  that  lonely  quarter,  for  he  had  not  heard  the  ring  of 
another  woodsman's  ax  the  livelong  day.  The  only 
human  being  .''  yes,  if  Thomas  Veal,  whose  cave,  beneath 
the  Dungeon  Rock,  in  the  neighborhood,  is  excepted. 
But  the  brave  Joel  acknowledged  no  fear  of  the  outlaw, 
declaring  that  Veal  would  come  to  a  poor  market  by 
interfering  with  him. 

Yet  Joel  could  not  banish  from  his  mind  an  occasional 
thought  of  the  pirate.  As  he  pursued  his  labor  he 
now  and  then  involuntarily  turned  around  to  gaze 
along  the  vista  of  gnarled  trunks  ;  and  he  often  imag- 
ined that  he  heard  upon  the  crackling  leaves  approaching 
or  retreating  footsteps  ;  and  more  than  once  a  shudder 
crept  over  him  as  he  heard  the  sharp  ring  of  his  ax 
echo  along  the  rocky  hills.  And  when  the  crash  of  the 
lofty  pine,  as  it  fell  by  his  lusty  strokes  had  ceased,  his 
senses  were  quickened,  and  he  could  not  avoid  pausing 
to  listen  a  moment  in  breathless  silence.  And  once, 
while  seated  on  a  fallen  trunk,  quietly  imbibing  a  com- 
forting drop  from  his  friendly  jug,  he  was  startled 
almost  out  of  his  senses  by  fancying  that  he  caught  a 


430  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

glimpse  of  a  burly  form  dodging  about  among  the 
trees. 

It  was  drawing  towards  night,  and  there  sat  Joel,  on 
the  stump,  as  before  remarked,  taking  a  little  rest,  and 
otherwise  fortifying  himself  by  a  sip  from  the  now 
almost  exhausted  jug,  whose  inspiring  contents  had 
done  so  much  to  sustain  him  during  the  labors  of  the 
day  ;  and  also  doing  a  little  more  for  the  inner  man  by 
uncovering  his  pail  and  with  a  clean  chip  devoted  to 
the  offices  of  knife,  fork  and  spoon,  making  such  meal 
as  he  might  of  the  remains  of  his  noon  repast.  These 
duties  over,  he  arose  preparatory  to  taking  up  his  line 
of  march  homeward. 

The  weather  was  disagreeable,  but  not  cold.  The 
air  was  heavy  and  oppressive,  and  a  portentous  scud 
was  flying  across  the  heavens  in  threatening  haste.  Joel 
slipped  on  his  great  jacket,  swung  his  pail  on  his  arm, 
threw  his  ax  upon  his  shoulder  and  directed  his  steps 
toward.,  the  valley  before  spoken  of  But  he  had  hardly 
entered  its  confines  when  he  was  startled  at  beholding 
coiled  directly  in  his  path  a  huge  rattlesnake.  Of  en- 
countering such  an  enemy  he  had  not  once  dreamed, 
for  if  the  time  had  not  fully  arrived  for  such  reptiles  to 
be  torpid  in  their  winter  retreats,  it  was  quite  time  for 
them  to  have  retired  for  the  night. 

His  first  impulse  was  to  hurl  his  ax  at  the  monster. 
But  there  was  something  in  that  flaming  eye  of  venom 
that  almost  instantly  shot  a  bewildering  influence  to  his 
brain.  Extreme  hideousness  is  liable  to  produce  an 
effect  like  this  in  a  strongly  apprehensive  mind.  Fas- 
cination, perhaps,  properly  enough  describes  it,  though 
that  does  not  seem  exactly  to  touch  the  root  of  the  idea. 
Neither  does  magnetism.  Joel,  as  he  alleged,  became 
by  degrees  perfectly  spell-bound  ;  his  power  of  aggres- 


THE    DUNGEON    ROCK.  43 1 

sion  or  resistance  entirely  gone,  and  his  bewilderment 
constantly  increasing. 

As  he  kept  his  eyes  steadily  fixed  on  those  of  the 
monster,  the  latter  seemed  to  expand  and  send  forth 
glowing  waves,  tinged  with  every  color  of  the  rainbow  ; 
and  still  they  seemed  to  enlarge  till  he  appeared  to  be 
gazing  over  a  broad  sea,  upon  whose  undulating  surface 
were  constantly  rolling  in  wild  confusion  glistening 
waves  of  every  hue. 

Each  sense  and  faculty  partook  of  that  fearful  night- 
mare condition  where  undefinable  but  distressing  appre- 
hensions gather  thick  and  fast.  Yet,  at  intervals,  as 
if  by  some  desperate  effort  of  reason  and  will,  a  ray 
would  penetrate  the  bewildering  charm,  rendering  him 
in  a  measure  sensible  of  his  situation  and  enabling  him 
to  realize  that  night  was  fast  closing  in  and  that  a  storm 
was  approaching.  He  longed  to  be  seated  by  his  own 
fireside  with  his  evening  meal  before  him,  or  on  the 
capacious  settle  in  the  Anchor  bar-room  with  his  mug 
and  pipe,  recounting  the  adventures  of  the  day.  But 
he  was  riveted  to  the  spot  by  the  strange  fascination. 

It  was  dark.  Still  the  spell-bound  Joel  remained  in 
the  same  footprints  and  still  the  demoniac  eyes  seemed 
to  expand  and  increase  in  lustre. 

The  frightful  storm  drew  on.  The  shriek  of  the 
terrified  night  bird  rang  through  the  forest.  The  gusts 
swept  angrily  along  the  ravines  and  bellowed  among 
the  crags  and  trembling  peaks.  The  ripened  mast  fell 
like  hail  upon  the  crackling  leaves,  and  dry  branches 
were  wrenched  from  their  parent  trunks  and  sent  whirl- 
ing through  the  air.  And  at  length  the  hoarse  thunder 
began  to  roll  over  the  hills  reverberating  from  rock  to 
rock  and  finally  in  sullen  mutterings  dying  away  in  the 
heaving  bosoms  of  the  swamps.     The  lightning  flashed 


432  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

as  if  the  very  heavens  were  on  fire.  Rain  mingled  with 
hail  descended  in  an  almost  unbroken  sheet  and  it 
seemed  as  if  a  storm  like  that  which  fell  on  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah  were  gathering  over  the  quaking  hills. 

Tall  trees  that  had  for  generations  braved  the  tempest 
reeled  to  and  fro,  bowing  their  twisted  heads  and  ming- 
ling one  with  another  their  outstretched  branches,  as 
if  clinging  together  for  mutual  support,  or,  yielding  to 
the  fury  of  the  blast,  in  majestic  capitulation,  falling  to 
the  earth.  A  thunderbolt  sped,  cutting  a  fiery  path 
through  the  dense  thickets  ;  the  stoutest  trees  that 
stood  in  its  irresistible  way,  fell  like  blades  of  grass  before 
the  mower's  scythe ;  stagnant  pools  boiled  and  rocks 
were  rent.  These  elemental  horrors,  however,  broke 
the  serpent  spell,  and  Joel  could  now  turn  whithersoever 
he  would,  gaze  in  any  direction  and  pursue  any  path. 
But  the  storm  still  raged,  and  during  the  intervals 
unillumined  by  the  lightning  the  darkness  was  intense. 

There  he  stood  ;  and  as  his  eye  reverted  to  the  path 
the  thunderbolt  had  opened,  in  horror  he  beheld  the 
burly  form  of  a  man  clambering  along  over  the  impedi- 
ments that  encumbered  the  way,  towards  the  Dungeon 
Rock,  his  lank  locks  streaming  in  the  wind,  and  his 
strides  like  those  of  a  wrathy  giant. 

And  here,  as  Joel's  narrative  of  his  strange  experi- 
ences on  that  eventful  night  goes  on  to  say,  a  new 
fascination  was  upon  him.  He  felt  an  uncontrollable  im- 
pulse to  follow  the  wild  way  of  the  Pirate,  as  he  at  once 
conceived  the  one  before  him  to  be.  By  the  lightning's 
gleam,  he  commenced  his  perilous  march  in  the  rear 
of  the  outlaw  ;  now,  as  it  appeared  to  him,  twitched  by 
some  elfin  hand  through  brake  and  briar,  and  anon 
thrust  into  some  pestiferous  slough.  The  very  earth 
seemed  to  rise  up  against  him,  forcing  him  to  stride 


THE    DUNGEON    ROCK.  433 

higher  and  higher  at  every  step,  and  at  each  unguarded 
moment  actually  dashing  against  him  with  such  vio- 
lence as  to  well  nigh  crack  his  head,  scratching  and 
tearing  him  about  the  face  and  hands  till  the  blood  ran 
down  upon  his  garments. 

The  old  trees  joined  in  the  general  revelry  and  seemed 
to  be  dancing  such  fantastic  figures  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  avoid  frequent  contact  with  them  ;  the  tenderest 
embraces  of  their  rough  arms  sorely  bruising  him,  and 
the  kicks  of  the  gnarled  trunks  sending  him  limping  on 
his  mysterious  course.  But  the  most  terrifying  feature 
was  what  seemed  to  be  the  derisive  laugh  of  his  invisible 
tormentors. 

Following  his  resistless  impulse,  after  struggling  some 
time,  he  reached  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  under  the 
Dungeon  Rock.  The  Pirate  himself  was  just  entering. 
Without  turning  to  right  or  left,  with  long  strides  he 
had  kept  on,  in  low  guttural  tones  chanting  snatches  of 
one  of  the  old  pirate  songs,  ending : 

"  We  buried  them  on  the  island  shore, 
all  under  the  blasted  tree  ! 
But  their  gold  we  hid  in  our  secret  store  ; 
ho  !  gold  and  red  blood  for  me." 

Abruptly  raising  his  voice,  in  a  comrtjanding  key  the 
Pirate  vociferated, 

"  Come  in.  Bowlegs,  come  in.  Have  a  care  for  your 
self     It  rains,  and  peradventure  chills  will  catch  you." 

Without  a  thought  of  resistance,  Joel,  as  he  persist- 
ently declared,  obeyed,  and  soon  found  himself  in  a  sort 
of  subterranean  cell  which  nature  had  formed  in  the 
bowels  of  the  hill  beneath  the  main  body  of  the  rock. 
The  pitchy  darkness  concealed  every  feature  of  the 
cavern  ;  but  soon  the  clinking  steel  of  the  Pirate  had 
furnished  the  means  for  lighting  a  pine  knot,  and  a  red 
S  28 


434  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

glare  was  thrown  upon  the  thick  coating  of  smoke  and 
filth  that  covered  the  jagged  walls.  By  the  flaring  light, 
too,  were  made  visible  a  large  table  of  the  rudest  work- 
manship, two  or  three  scraggy  tree-stumps,  designed  for 
seats,  and  a  rough  kind  of  shoemaker's  bench.  In  one 
corner  stood  an  old  Spanish  musket,  and  about  the 
blackened  space  answering  for  a  fireplace  were  scattered 
a  few  bruised  and  broken  cooking  utensils. 

"  Sit  you  down,  Joel  Dunn  ;  sit  you  down  and  rest ; 
and  we  will  by-and-by  have  some  grave  discourse.  I 
would  hear  about  your  godly  neighbors,  and  the  tavern 
gossips  withal.  Sit  you  down  on  yonder  seat  of  oak, 
and  enjoy  your  visit." 

Without  uttering  a  word,  Joel  seated  himself  on  the 
spider-legged  oak  stump  pointed  towards,  and  the  Pirate 
proceeded  to  roll  a  huge  stone  against  the  entrance 
of  the  den  ;  which  work  was  hardly  done  when  a  gaunt, 
bloody-jawed  wolf  rushed  up  and  made  a  violent  effort 
to  enter ;  but  a  flaming  knot  was  thrust  towards  him, 
and  with  a  fierce  growl  he  dashed  off  into  the  thicket. 

"  That,  Joel  Dunn,  was  one  of  my  neighbors  —  come 
to  make  a  call.  And  do  you  not  deem  me  in  a  precious 
good  circle .'' " 

So  saying,  Veal  seated  himself  upon  one  of  the  other 
stumps,  and  drawing  from  his  pocket  some  bits  of  coarse 
bread  and  dried  fish  began  munching. 

"  A  dry  supper,  this,  Joel  ;  worse  than  sea-fare  ;  but 
where  's  the  flask  of  drink  the  Captain  gave  you  at  the 
Anchor ;  not  all  gone  yet,  I  flatter  me.  Come,  come, 
neighbor  Bowlegs,  a  good  dram  would  be  reviving ;  so 
out  with  the  flask  and  let  's  have  a  round." 

If  any  thing  was  likely  to  start  Joel  from  his  lithargic 
condition  it  was,  next  to  the  article  itself,  the  mention 
of  good  drink.     A  sort  of  confidential  feeling  arose  on 


THE    DUNGEON    ROCK.  435 

the  demand  for  the  jug,  and  he  was  able  with  some 
steadiness  of  tone  to  reply, 

"  O,  Master  Veal,  a  sip  from  the  jug  would  indeed  be 
reviving ;  but  where  it  is  I  know  not ;  long  ago  it  was 
twitched  from  my  hand  in  the  swamp ;  but  it  was  empty ; 
the  last  drop  had  gone." 

"  Gone  down  your  burning  gullet,  Joel.  Just  as  I 
supposed.  Go  to,  you  drunken  vagabond.  You  are 
even  now  steeped  in  fire-water.  Who  sent  you  hither 
and  what  's  your  errand  } " 

"  O,  Master  Veal,  I  be  not  drunk,  but  tired,  vastly 
tired,  scared,  half  drowned,  wrenched  and  mauled.  I 
tramped  hither  early  in  the  morning,  to  chop,  quarter 
and  pile  for  Captain  Marshall,  him  that  I  much  serve, 
at  the  Anchor ;  and  I  have  wrought  the  whole  day." 

"  I  Ve  seen  you  at  the  Anchor,  and  know  you  well ; 
once  came  I  near  tolling  you  off  for  to  draw  dagger 
upon  as  a  vagabond  hunting  me  to  my  burrow  by  the 
river  side,  and  driving  me  to  this  den  for  a  home." 

"  Indeed,  Master  Veal,  I  did  with  others  hunt  for 
you  in  the  woods  along  the  river  bank,  but  we  were 
set  to  the  work  by  the  magistrates." 

"  I  know  all  that,  Joel.     I  know  who  moved  the  folk, 
at  the  May  meeting,  to  hunt  me  like  a  wild  beast ;  as 
m^y  be  they  '11  find  me  to  be.     Yes,  Master  Bowlegs, 
tMl  do  for  them,  yet." 

,  On  enunciating  this  threat,  the  Pirate  arose,  and 
stepping  near  his  visitor,  or  more  properly  captive,  ejac- 
ulated with  a  sort  of  awkward  levity,  as  the  light  fell 
upon  him, 

"  Why,  why,  Joel,  you  're  all  bloody  and  torn  —  face 
and  hands  ;  you  're  battered  and  bruised  too,  as  if  you  'd 
been  the  sport  of  sharp-nailed  imps.  What  have  you 
been  about  —  boxing  with  barberry  bushes  and  dancing 


436  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN, 

with  briars  ?     Surely  none  but  a  drunkard  or  a  madman 
would  do  in  that  wise.     Go  to,  you  drunkard." 

"  O  Master  Veal,  they  have  played  me  most  foul  all 
the  night.  Such  jerking,  such  rubbing  and  such  scra- 
ping as  they  have  given  me  against  the  rough  trees 
and  rocks,  was  enough  to  rake  the  skin  from  my  very 
teeth.  I  was  like  a  root  of  horseradish  against  the 
tavern  grater." 

"  Who,  Joel  Dunn,  I  would  know  who  hath  played 
you  thus  foul  .'* " 

"  Some  of  your  folk,  Master  Veal,  by  the  devil's 
presence  ;  some  of  the  imps  that  do  your  bidding.  And 
I  would  now  crave  help  to  gain  my  way  out  of  this 
pestiferous  bound." 

"  Some  of  my  folk,  Joel  Dunn  ?  What  mean  you  ? 
You  lie,  and  be  drunk.  You  shall  depart  straitly,  and 
none  shall  bear  you  company.  By  my  blood  I  will  not 
have  drunken  vagabonds  hereabout,  who  will  box  with 
briars,  get  worsted,  and  then  go  home  and  utter  forth 
lies  that  breed  in  their  maudlin  brains.  Some  of  my 
folk,  say  you  .-•  Come,  come,  be  up  and  pushing.  I  tell 
you  again  you  lie  and  are  drunk  and  shall  depart  without 
further  parley.  And  it  would  be  for  your  good  to  move 
while  the  lightning  which  already  is  flashing  in  the  east, 
may  light  the  way.  Come,  now,  the  sooner  you  she' 
tracks  heel  inward,  the  more  wholesome  for  you.  Be 
gone  !  and  when  you  reach  the  Anchor  give  Tom  Veal's 
compliments  to  Captain  Marshall." 

So  saying,  the  Pirate  suddenly  started,  as  if  struck  by 
some  new  thought,  and  with  considerable  effort  forced 
himself  through  a  crevice  of  the  rock  into  what  appeared 
to  be  an  inner  apartment, 

Joel  did  not  instantly  depart,  for  he  felt  that  he  might 
as  well  meet  the  terrors  within  as  those  without.     In 


THE    DUNGEON    ROCK.  437 

the  absence  of  his  inhospitable  host  he  breathed  a  little 
more  freely,  and  arising,  approached  the  table,  on  which 
the  pine  knot  was  still  blazing,  and  began  to  examine 
the  objects  thereon.  A  broken  dish,,  a  rusty  knife,  a 
wooden  spoon,  a  pistol,  a  dirk,  a  hatchet,  a  shoemaker's 
hammer,  and  a  few  other  articles  lay  in  confusion.  And 
glistening  among  some  rusty  nails,  in  a  clam-shell,  he 
saw  a  jewelled  finger  ring.  This  he  took  up,  abstract- 
edly, and  nervously  slipped  on  and  off  the  tip  of  his 
sunburnt  finger. 

He  could  all  the  time  hear  the  raging  of  the  storm 
without.  The  thunder  seemed  to  jar  the  very  founda- 
tions of  the  hills,  and  at  intervals  the  lightning  threw  a 
lurid  glare  into  the  cavern,  discovering  nauseous  vermin 
crawling  about  the  rocky  floor.  The  rushing  of  the 
winds  and  the  hootings  of  the  owls  without,  and  the 
chirping  of  the  awakened  crickets  within,  formed  a 
strange,  wild  discord.  And  he  had  to  be  continually 
on  the  alert  to  dodge  the  numerous  bats  that  held  their 
airy  flight  about  his  head.  But  the  most  terrifying  of  all 
was  that  unearthly  laugh  which  he  still  occasionally  heard 
mingling  with  the  din  of  the  elements,  and  which  he 
doubted  not  was  the  mocking  of  malignant  fiends.  He 
could  not  avoid  shuddering  at  the  thought  of  commenc- 
ing his  homeward  march  amid  such  perils.  But  still 
the  broad  hint,  or  rather  command  of  the  Pirate,  for 
him  to  begone,  seemed  to  render  it  equally  unsafe  to 
remain. 

As  connected  with  these  mysterious  occurrences,  and 
in  view  of  what  may  hereafter  appear,  it  should  be  noted 
that  a  short  time  before,  one  of  the  most  winsome  of  the 
village  maidens  had  disappeared  under  circumstances 
peculiarly  harrowing,  on  the  very  day  appointed  for  her 


438  THE    ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

nuptials.  She  had  gone  out  alone,  for  a  short  ramble 
among  the  scenes  of  her  childhood,  which  she  was  about 
to  quit  for  a  long  time  if  not  forever ;  and  there  is  no 
certainty  that  she  was  ever  seen  afterwards.  The  sad 
event  occasioned  great  distress  among  her  friends  and 
apprehension  among  the  settlers. 

Return  we  now  to  the  drama  at  the  Dungeon  Rock. 
There  stood  Joel,  terrified  and  bewildered,  till  the  Pirate 
emerged  from  the  inner  crevice,  and  glaring  on  his 
trembling  victim  with  uplifted  weapon,  exclaimed, 

"  Joel  Dunn,  did  I  not  bid  you  begone  .-'  A  minute 
more  and  your  head  and  shoulders  may  part  company. 
Begone,  I  say." 

At  this  juncture,  as  Joel  ever  afterwards  declared, 
with  the  most  unwavering  pertinacity,  an  extraordinary 
impulse  impelled  him  to  a  posture  of  defense.  He  caught 
his  ax,  and  furiously  swinging  it  above  his  head,  directed 
a  desperate  blow  toward  the  head  of  the  Pirate,  who  with 
amazing  dexterity  and  a  sardonic  laugh  caught  the 
helve  in  his  powerful  grip,  and  with  the  greatest  ease 
wrested  it  from  his  grasp.  For  a  few  moments  the 
two  stood  confronting  each  other,  glaring  like  maniacs. 
And  then,  as  Joel  expressed  it  on  first  relating  his 
story  to  the  gaping  assemblage  in  the  Anchor  bar-room, 
he  "  went  under."  So  perfectly  horrible  was  the  grin 
of  the  outlaw  as  he  looked  down  upon  him,  and  so  hot 
and  hissing  his  breath,  that  his  senses  fairly  deserted 
him.  All  he  knew  was  that  there  came  such  a  crash  as 
if  all  the  hills  and  rocks  had  been  at  once  blown  to 
pieces. 

Morning  came,  and  the  sun  threw  his  bright  beams 
over  the  mangled  tops  of  the  pines.  And  long  before 
meridian,  Joel  Dunn  was  found  by  a  brother  woodsman 


THE    DUNGEON    ROCK.  439 

prostrate  upon  the  side  of  Dungeon  Hill,  which  was 
strewn  with  fragments  of  rock  and  torn  branches.  The 
fallen  trees,  upheaved  earth  and  ejected  stones,  showed 
that  not  only  had  a  dreadful  storm  taken  place,  but  also 
an  awful  earthquake.  Tradition  adds  that  the  betrothal 
ring  of  the  affianced  maiden  who  had  disappeared  so 
strangely  was  found  upon  the  tip  of  his  finger. 

It  was  soon  discovered  that  the  whole  front  portion 
of  the  Dungeon  Rock  had  been  ri'ven  from  the  main 
body  and  projected  forward  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
close  up  the  entrance  to  the  cave,  entombing  alive,  as 
was  currently  assumed,  the  miserable  Pirate.  And 
thus  it  has  remained,  substantially,  to  this  day.  It  was 
probably  imagined  by  the  pious  folk  of  that  day  that 
the  special  object  of  the  earthquake  was  to  securely 
imprison  the  reprobate  Veal  ;  and  hence  we  their  de- 
scendants should  not,  as  that  laudable  object  was  fairly 
accomplished,  oppose  Mr.  Marble's  efforts  to  reopen  the 
cave  and  possess  himself  of  what  treasure  may  be  found. 

But  what  shall  we  conclude  upon  concerning  Joel 
Dunn  ?  Was  he  a  drunken  dreamer,  on  whose  sottish 
fancies  all  these  traditions  hang .''  Did  all  his  disasters 
and  distresses  on  that  night  lie  in  an  attack  of  delirium 
tremens  .'*  Perhaps  questions  like  these  may  be  most 
satisfactorily  disposed  of  by  giving  a  brief  extract  from 
an  old  manuscript  containing  some  account  of  the 
alleged  transactions,  which  seems  to  have  been  written 
some  years  after  the  events  transpired.  First,  however, 
it  should  be  observed  that  Joel  varied  in  his  versions 
of  his  confab  with  the  Pirate  and  of  his  experience  in 
the  cave  ;  but  the  one  that  on  the  whole  seemed  most 
suitable  to  the  present  purpose  has  been  given.  After 
various  details  regarding  the  occurrences,  the  quaint 
old  writer  adds : 


440  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

"  These  wordes  did  make  m'^h  talke.  They  did  holde 
loell  Dun  to  be  one  not  m'^h  giuen  to  lying.  But  hee 
was  giuen  to  anoth'^  wickednesse  w'^h  doth  sometjmes 
bring  vp  strange  phantasjes.  '  Manie  doe  thinke  y'  these 
wonders  bee  y^  devill  his  doeings,  tho'oute  and  y'  hjs 
impes  did  of  a  suretie  gett  hold  of  loell  and  vse  hjm 
thus  hardlie  ;  y^  devill  first  comeing  in  y^  shape  of  a 
rattlesnaike,  and  after,  as  hath  bin  related.  Butt  to  me 
it  seemeth  likelie  y'  all  fell  oute  from  y*^  disorder  of 
drinke.  And  Obadiah  Turner  saith  y*  hee  too  thinketh 
soe.     Likewise  M""  Whitinge. 

"  Wee  doubt  nott  y'  loell  did  abide  in  y^  woodes  all 
y^  night  in  y^  w'^h  y^  dreadfull  earthquake  did  happ"  ; 
and  hee  surelie  must  haue  hadd  terrible  tjmes  there. 
Butt  methinks  hee  must  haue  drank  to  excesse  and  y" 
lain  downe  nigh  y'^  great  rocke  where  hee  was  found  in 
y^  morning,  and  there  dream^  hjs  wonderfull  dreames  ; 
and  itt  was  strainge  y'  som  frag^'s  did  nott  fall  vpon 
hjm  to  hjs  destruccion.  Butt  Godd  preserv'  hjm  y'  hee 
might  haue  space  wherein  to  repent  of  hjs  mannifolde 
sinns.  Yet  will  I  sett  downe  one  thing  to  y^  credit 
of  loell ;  w'^h  is,  y'  forev""  aff  hee  w^  take  noe  more 
strong  drinke.  M'^h  good  was  don  hjm  in  y'  way ;  and 
att  y^  same  tjme  hee  lost  m'^h  braverie,  for  neuer  aft"^ 
w*^  hee  goe  into  y^  woodes  alone,  butt  took  to  ffishing 
and  makeing  of  shews. 

"  Masf  Turner  sajth  y'  loell  declar'^  vnto  hjm  manie 
tjmes  y'  these  things  were  trew,  and  nev""  c'^  bee  made 
to  say  contrarywise,  tho  hee  allow^'  y'  being  nT^h  fluster"^ 
he  w^  nott  say  but  hee  misrememb'"''  iust  y'^  wordes  sajd 
and  y'^  things  don  while  in  y''  cave.  And  Cap"  Marshall 
of  y^  Ankor  saith  loell  declar'^  y^  same  to  hjm,  manie 
tjmes.  Butt  som  dreamers  think  all  theire  dreames 
trew. 


THE    DUNGEON    ROCK.  44I 

"  What  hath  bin  sajd  ab'  y'^  ring  of  y=  lost  maid  being 
founde  on  loell  his  fing""  som  doe  stoutlie  deny  ;  and 
y''fore  I  will  nott  affirme  or- deny  touching  itt." 

Whether  the  lost  maiden  alluded  to  was  ever  found 
or  any  tidings  of  her  received,  it  is  quite  impossible 
now  to  determine.  Loose  traditions  may  be  traced  of 
her  having  been  taken  captive  by  strolling  Indians  and 
carried  to  the  head  quarters  of  a  distant  tribe,  where 
she  remained  some  years,  but  finally  regained  her  home 
through  the  assistance  of  an  Indian  girl  who  had  con- 
ceived for  her  a  most  sisterly  affection.  At  another 
time  she  was  believed  to  have  been  discovered  among 
the  Dutch  settlers  on  Hudson  river.  It  also  appears 
that  something  like  Gypsy  wanderers  were  about  here 
at  an  early  day.  "  A  companie  of  strange  people  w*=h 
be  neither  Indjan  nor  Christian,"  are  mentioned  by  Mr. 
Turner  as  having  "  made  their  camp  in  a  valley  a  little 
within  y'^  woods,"  and  he  speaks  of  their  having  a 
maiden  with  them  whom  he  seems  to  suspect  they  had 
stolen  —  not  this  one,  certainly,  for  the  date  under 
which  he  wrote  was  before  her  disappearance. 

Thus  has  an  attempt  been  made  to  reduce  to  some 
form  the  old  traditions  concerning  the  Dungeon  Rock 
which  have  long  been  floating  disconnectedly  around, 
and  which  could  hardly  with  propriety  be  omitted  in  a 
work  of  the  scope  of  the  present  volume.  The  narration 
well  illustrates  certain  mental  conceptions  prevalent 
among  the  settlers  and  the  condition  of  some  things  at 
that  time.  Traditions  are  by  no  means  to  be  despised, 
and  we  have  been  impelled  by  a  sense  of  duty  to  give 
one  here  and  there  when  it  seemed  to  be  the  best 
means  of  elucidation.  A  shrewd  old  writer  observes, 
"  Written  learning  is  a  fixed  luminary,  which,  after  the 
cloud  that  has  hidden  it  has  passed  away,  is  again 
S* 


442  THE   ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

bright  in  its  proper  station.     Tradition  is  but  a  meteor, 
which,  if  it  falls  cannot  be  rekindled." 

Among  the  occasional  visitors  at  the  Anchor  was 
David  Kunkshamooshaw,  a  full-blooded  Indian,  and  one 
whose  ancestors  had  been  among  the  rulers  of  the 
country  for  many  generations.  He  was  a  grandson  of 
Wenepoykin,  called  also  Sagamore  George  No-Nose, 
whose  father  was  the  famous  Nanapashemet,  or  the 
New  Moon,  who  was  one  of  the  principal  chiefs  of  the 
New  England  tribes,  his  jurisdiction  extending  eastward 
from  Charles  river  to  the  Piscataqua.  Sagamore  Hill, 
which  lies  between  Beach  and  Nahant  streets,  in  Lynn, 
derived  its  name  from  Montowampate  who  had  his 
habitation  there,  when  Sagamore  of  Lynn.  He  was  an 
elder  brother  of  David  Kunkshamooshaw,  the  visitor  at 
the  Anchor,  and  at  his  decease  the  dignity  of  the  race 
seems  to  have  begun  rapidly  to  decline.  The  "  deed 
of  confirmation,  ratification  and  alienation,"  given  in 
1686  by  the  heirs  of  Sagamore  George  No-Nose  to  the 
selectmen  of  Lynn,  of  all  the  lands  within  the  jurisdic- 
tion, bears  the  name  of  David  and  his  wife. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  speak  David  Kunkshamoo- 
shaw was  somewhat  advanced  in  years.  He  was  nat- 
urally shrewd,  of  an  inquisitive  turn  of  mind,  and  much 
inclined  to  adopt  the  customs  and  imitate  the  habits 
of  his  white  neighbors  so  far  as  he  found  them  consist- 
ent with  the  airy  freedom  of  the  semi-nomad.  In  person 
he  was  tall,  erect,  and  not  overburdened  with  flesh,  but 
full  of  vigor  and  capable  of  great  endurance. 

His  habitation  was  one  of  the  better  sort  for  an 
Indian,  and  stood  on  the  northern  slope  of  what  has 
since  been  known  as  Second  Pine  Hill ;  the  untidy 
premises,  comprising  a  little  garden  and  a  few  stunted 


DAVID   KUNKSHAMOOSHAW.  443 

fruit  trees,  occupying  a  part  of  the  very  space  now  filled 
by  the  City  Reservoir.  An  enormous  red-cedar,  a  short 
distance  off,  and  standing  almost  on  the  crest  of  Reser- 
voir Hill  formed  an  unerring  guide  to  the  premises. 
When  the  writer,  in  boyhood,  drove  a  cow  to  pasture 
thereabout,  that  ancient  forest  relic  was  still  standing, 
and  known  as  the  "  Old  Indian."  Its  bleached  and 
lordly  head  towered  above  all  the  trees  upon  the  hill, 
and  was  a  marked  object,  as  seen  from  the  town.  It 
must  have  stood  there  for  centuries,  looking  forth  over 
the  blue  waters  of  the  bay  long  before  they  were  dis- 
turbed by  the  keel  of  the  adventurous  Mayflower ; 
and  as  the  tradition  ran  was  for  generations  a  guide  for 
the  Indian  skiffs  that  skimmed  about  the  bay.  When 
the  ax  of  the  woodsman  laid  it  low  it  seemed  as  if  the 
last  link  that  bound  together  our  dispensation  and  that 
of  the  red  man  had  been  severed. 

David,  as  we  shall  hereafter  call  him,  without  adding 
his  more  awkward  though  legitimate  name  of  Kunksha- 
mooshaw,  was  skilled  in  the  few  simple  arts  of  his  race, 
and  in  his  intercourse  with  the  whites  had  picked  up 
so  many  odds  and  ends  of  better  knowledge  that  he  had 
become  quite  an  oracle  among  his  own  people.  And 
among  his  white  neighbors  he  had  such  a  reputation  for 
skill  in  the  use  of  herbs  and  simple  medicinal  prepara- 
tions, and  for  practical  knowledge  of  the  most  valuable 
botanical  productions  of  the  meadows  and  woods,  as  to 
ensure  him  a  sort  of  respect  wherever  he  appeared. 
But  above  all,  and  what  gave  him  consideration  among 
both  whites  and  Indians,  was  his  expertness  in  the  use 
of  all  kinds  of  charms  and  sorceries.  In  the  practice 
of  the  latter  class  of  accomplishments  he  travelled  about 
a  good  deal  and  was  sometimes  called  to  visit  distant 
tribes.     The  renowned    King  Philip  once  entertained 


444  THE    ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

him  at  his  Mount  Hope  retreat.  But  he  went  there 
more  for  a  conference  on  political  matters  than  to  exer- 
cise his  occult  arts. 

To  the  landlord  of  the  Anchor  David  was  not  always 
entirely  welcome,  for  the  rude  fellows  about  there  some- 
times taunted  and  joked  him  till  his  patience  was  ex- 
hausted, and  his  native  temper  so  fired  that  in  the 
violence  of  his  exasperation  his  assailants  were  in  great 
danger  of  gaining  sore  heads  if  not  broken  limbs.  One 
night,  for  instance,  in  the  bar-room,  for  some  real  or 
fancied  injury  offered  by  Joel  Dunn,  he  seized  him  by 
the  hair  of  the  head  and  the  knee-tie  of  his  leather  small- 
clothes, exclaiming,  "  What  for  you  try  plague  great 
man  Injan  —  me  make  back-log  of  you!"  and  before 
he  could  be  restrained  had  thrust  poor  Joel  so  far  into 
the  roaring  fire  upon  the  hearth  that  the  pitch  with 
which  his  garment  was  besmeared  actually  took  fire, 
and  he  came  near  broiling  to  death.  This  is,  perhaps, 
a  sufficient  introduction  of  David,  who  is  to  figure  in 
a  transaction  presently  to  be  related,  as  well  as  on  one 
or  two  other  interesting  occasions. 

All  along,  from  quite  early  times,  stories  about' the 
burial  of  money  here  and  there  upon  the  coast  or  in  the 
woods  were  current,  and  as  such  stories  always  gain 
credence  with  a  certain  class  of  minds,  many  attempts 
were  made  to  discover  the  hidden  treasure.  The  alleged 
lodgement  of  pirates,  near  Saugus  river,  gave  a  new 
interest  to  the  tales,  and  treasure-seeking  expeditions 
were  repeatedly  formed.  The  services  of  David  were 
usually  in  requisition  on  these  important  occasions,  for 
besides  his  other  eminent  qualifications  he  was  an 
expert  in  the  use  of  the  witch-hazel  rods,  without  which 
nothing  could  be  done  ;  and  he  was  likewise  an  adept 
in  directing  the  work  of  the  diggers. 


PINES    POINT.  445 

From  the  little  grassy  knoll  at  the  southeast  of  the 
Anchor  a  fine  landscape  and  marine  view  could  be  had. 
And  one  of  the  attractive  features  was  the  long  sandy- 
stretch  now  known  as  Revere  Beach,  through  which 
the  narrow-gauge  rail-road  from  Boston  to  Lynn  passes. 
Many  trees  grew  along  the  inland  margin,  and  during 
heavy  storms  added  their  rushing  accompaniment  to 
the  deeper  roar  of  the  waves.  At  the  eastern  extremity 
quite  a  patch  of  forest  appeared ;  the  same  that  in  an 
attenuated  form  still  meets  the  eye  of  the  traveller  as 
he  glides  along  in  the  car.  This  wooded  extremity 
has  from  time  immemorial  been  known  as  Pines  Point. 
There  was  a  rude  little  hut  here,  at  the  time  of  which 
we  speak,  erected  for  the  occasional  shelter  of  those 
who  worked  about  the  marshes,  and  also  to  afford 
some  conveniences  for  such  fishermen  as  might  by 
stress  of  weather  or  other  misfortune  be  compelled  to 
run  ashore  there.  But  this  primitive  erection  disap- 
peared many  years  ago. 

This  romantic  vicinity,  too,  was  the  scene  of  many 
a  convivial  party  from  the  settlement  —  parties  some- 
what of  the  character  of  the  "  pic-nic  "  of  the  present 
day,  but  of  a  rather  ruder  type,  degenerating,  it  may 
be,  especially  when  no  females  were  present,  into  drink- 
ing and  riotous  gatherings  resembling  in  some  degree 
the  old  English  drinking-bouts.  They  usually  went 
over  in  boats,  though  for  the  timid  ones,  old  dobin  was 
put  in  harness  and  driven  round  through  Winnisimit  ; 
a  long  and  hard  ride,  particularly  if  the  tide  happened 
to  be  so  high  that  they  were  obliged  to  drive  on  the 
ridge  of  the  beach.  Plenty  offish  could  be  caught  just 
off  the  shore,  and  lobsters  and  clams  were  abundant. 
Excellent  bass  so  abounded  as  to  give  the  name  Bass 
Point  to  the  angle  of  Nahant  that  juts  out  near  the 


446  THE    ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

opposite  side  of  the  channel.  With  these  products  of 
the  sea  and  the  various  small  stores  brought  over  in  the 
boats,  a  most  savory  banquet  could  be  prepared ;  the 
necessary  fires  being  kept  up  from  the  stores  of  drift 
wood  and  dry  branches  always  at  hand. 

There  were  many  floating  stories  about  money  being 
buried  in  this  section  ;  stories  which  naturally  enough 
received  auriferous  coloring  from  the  fact  that  the 
anchorage  of  the  piratical  craft  alluded  to  in  these  pages 
must  have  been  very  near.  Rounding  the  western  point 
of  Nahant,  in  their  brigantine,  the  knaves  no  doubt 
dropped  anchor  near  the  mouth  of  Saugus  river,  just 
off  Pines  Point.  And  after  anchoring,  as  the  tradition 
runs,  a  boat  was  lowered  and  rowed  up  the  river  towards 
the  Glen.  Night  shut  in  and  nothing  more  was  ever 
seen  of  the  brigantine  or  the  boat,  by  the  villagers.  It 
was  however,  but  a  few  days  after,  that  it  was  ascertained 
that  the  outlaws  were  revelling  in  the  Glen. 

But  to  return  to  the  money-digging  enterprise.  Du- 
ring the  discussions  in  the  Anchor  bar-room,  the  subject 
was,  almost  as  a  matter  of  course,  frequently  brought 
up.  And  some,  those  of  the  rougher  sort  especially, 
were  zealous  to  improve  their  pecuniary  condition  by 
securing  a  share  of  the  hidden  treasure.  Discussion 
finally  ripened  into  action.  A  party  was  formed  to  go 
over  to  the  Point,  on  a  certain  night,  suitably  equipped 
for  a  workmanlike  exploration.  The  settlement  of  de- 
tails occupied  so  much  time  that  it  was  midnight  when 
the  party  were  prepared  to  disperse.  A  stimulating 
round  at  the  bar  was  taken  in  assurance  of  good-faith 
and  "  honor  bright,"  and  the  door  swung  open.  But  just 
as  the  foremost  ones  stepped  over  the  sill  they  were 
startled  by  seeing  the  stalwart  form  of  a  man  arise  from 


MONEY   DIGGERS.  447 

a  crouching  position  beneath  the  window,  which  had  a 
broken  pane  or  two.  A  momentary  ray  from  the  light 
fell  on  his  face,  which  bore  a  thick  grizzly  beard,  that 
did  something  towards  concealing  the  savage  grin  that 
played  about  his  mouth.  His  torn  hat  was  pressed  low 
upon  his  forehead,  and  almost  the  whole  of  the  rest  of 
his  person  was  wrapped  in  a  long  gray  coat,  coarse, 
ragged  and  besmeared.  He  was  evidently  taken  by 
surprise,  and  endeavored  as  far  as  possible  to  avoid 
observation.  Without  uttering  a  word,  he  hastily  fled 
towards  the  woods,  whither  no  one  was  inclined  to  fol- 
low him. 

The  night  agreed  upon  for  the  prosecution  of  the 
money-digging  enterprise  arrived,  and  the  company  as- 
sembled at  the  Anchor  in  due  season,  first  to  fortify 
themselves  at  the  bar  and  then  to  proceed  to  business. 
Without  wasting  time  they  shouldered  their  tools  and 
moved  for  the  point  of  embarkation.  The  services  of 
David,  our  red  friend,  were  of  course  in  requisition. 
He  was  in  good  spirits  and  appeared  armed  with  his 
hazel  rods  and  charm-pot. 

It  was  a  beautiful  moonlight  night,  and  hardly  a 
breath  of  air  disturbed  the  water.  The  very  fishes 
seemed  to  express  their  enjoyment  of  the  placid  scene 
in  leaps  above  and  antics  below  the  surface.  They  rowed 
with  a  will,  and  the  boat  soon  reached  a  convenient 
landing  place.  After  taking  a  prolonged  pull  at  the  keg 
they  proceeded  to  their  work.  The  action  of  the  hazel 
rods  in  the  hands  of  David  was  lively  and  satisfactory 
in  the  extreme  ;  and  that  worthy  soon  pointed  out  the 
very  sod  beneath  which  reposed  an  untold  amount  of 
treasure.  Then  he  proceeded  with  his  incantations  in 
the  most  approved  order.  Kindling  a  little  fire  of 
witch-hazel  bark,  he  placed  his  charm-pot  over  it,  and 


448  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

when  the  mysterious  liquid  exuding  from  the  ingredients 
first  put  in  began  to  simmer,  he  threw  in  a  Httle  toad, 
an  owl's  foot,  a  snake's  tongue,  some  bits  of  rosemary 
and  some  dragon-root.  Then  he  solemnly  paced  around 
the  seething  mass,  uttering,  in  a  mumbling  chant,  some 
of  those  long,  zig-zaging  words,  entirely  unpronounceable 
by  English  tongues  and  unmeaning  to  English  ears.  He 
then  enlarged  the  circle  of  his  ambulation  till  all  the 
space  over  which  the  charm  was  to  extend  was  included. 
Having  thus  laid  out  the  ground,  he  dipped  his  hazel 
wand  into  the  boiling  pot,  and  drew  it  rapidly  along  the 
line ;  several  times  repeating  the  operation,  to  be  sure 
that  no  inch  of  ground  was  missed.  This  being  accom- 
plished, the  company  were  gathered  in  and  solemnly 
warned  not  to  set  foot  beyond  the  circle,  on  peril  of 
their  lives,  as  hosts  of  evil  spirits  would  be  hovering 
round  the  moment  ground  was  broken.  He  also  charged 
them  not  to  utter  a  single  word,  even  in  whisper,  for 
if  they  did,  their  whole  labor  would  in  a  moment  come 
to  naught,  though  by  keeping  within  the  ring  they  might 
escape  bodily  harm.  The  keg  was  once  more  passed 
from  mouth  to  mouth  and  then  carefully  deposited  near 
the  charm-pot,  which  had  now  ceased  to  send  forth  any 
vapor. 

A  motion  was  then  made  for  the  work  to  commence ; 
and  vigorous  was  the  attack  on  the  stubborn  soil.  It 
was  not  long  before  the  ringing  sound  so  welcome  to 
the  expectant  ear  of  the  money-digger  was  heard  by 
them.  In  joyous  excitement  their  eyes  glistened  in  the 
moonbeams,  but  they  wrought  on  in  silence.  Once  in  a 
while  David  would  perambulate  the  extreme  of  the  circle, 
gesticulating  as  if  in  defiance  of  the  evil  spirits  kept  at 
bay  by  his  charms,  but  of  course  uttering  no  word. 

In  due  time  they   came   upon  the  traditionary  flat 


MONEY    DIGGERS.  449 

rock  that  covered  the  treasure  chest  ;  and  just  as  they 
began  working  around  it,  there  came  a  tremendous  gust 
of  wind  sweeping  down  over  the  beach  with  such  fury 
as  to  set  every  thing  moveable  flying  about  their  heads, 
and  fining  the  air  with  sharp,  gritty  sand.  Only  one 
gust  came  but  that  was  so  appalling  that  the  work 
instantly  ceased  and  they  stood  glaring  on  each  other 
in  mute  terror,  till  David,  having  with  hasty  strides 
perambulated  the  circle,  returned  to  his  post  near  the 
charm-pot  and  motioned  them  to  proceed.  A  long, 
stout  lever  was  adjusted,  and  they  were  just  giving 
a  vigorous  heave  at  the  stone,  when  an  astounding 
neigh,  as  if  of  a  horse  on  the  very  border  the  circle, 
rang  in  their  ears  and  echoed  away  over  on  the  cliffs 
of  Nahant.  It  was  so  frightful  that  every  arm  was  un- 
nerved and  the  lever  dropped.  They  stared  around  in 
the  direction  whence  the  unearthly  sound  seemed  to 
proceed,  but  no  living  creature  was  to  be  seen.  The 
air  was  calm  and  the  trees  were  as  noiseless  as  their 
shadows  which  the  moonlight  so  sharply  cut.  There 
they  stood,  agast  and  trembling.  But  David,  having 
previously  had  some  experience  in  such  expeditions, 
was  in  a  measure  able  to  meet  the  emergency.  He 
replenished  the  charm-pot  and  again  perambulated  the 
lines  ;  and  every  thing  appearing  to  be  safe,  he  made  a 
motion  for  the  diggers  to  renew  their  work.  Once 
more  the  ponderous  lever  was  in  place  to  raise  the 
stone  beneath  which  lay  the  treasure-chest,  and  for 
some  minutes  the  work  went  bravely  on,  though  the 
entanglements  of  some  stubborn  old  tree  roots  would 
probably  have  induced  a  profane  expression  now  and 
then  had  it  not  happily  been  for  the  interdiction  of  all 
speech.  But  finally  all  obstacles  were  seemingly  over- 
come, and  their  hopes  just  on  the  verge  of  fruition. 

29 


450  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

A  lantern  was  lowered,  and  eager  eyes  actually  dis- 
cerned what  they  doubted  not  was  a  corner  of  the  iron 
chest ;  and  the  clink  of  the  bar  added  the  testimony 
of  their  ears.  With  a  will  they  bore  down  on  the  lever, 
and  the  ponderous  stone  began  to  move  upward.     But  — 

At  that  critical  moment,  there  came  another  awful 
gust  of  wind  ;  but  this  time  over  the  water,  saturating 
their  clothing  with  salt  spray,  almost  blinding  them,  and 
setting  every  thing  whirling  again.  Then  was  heard  the 
heavy  tread  of  a  rapidly  advancing  horse.  On,  on,  he 
dashed,  in  headlong  fury,  out  into  the  moonlight  —  a 
gigantic  courser,  with  flaring  tail  erect  and  long  mane 
waving  and  curling  in  the  breeze ;  snorting  and  pran- 
cing in  the  most  threatening  manner.  Astride  his  back, 
without  saddle  or  bridle,  hatless  and  with  hair  streaming 
in  lank  locks  about  his  shoulders,  sat  a  man  of  giant  form 
and  graceless  mien,  a  hideous  grin  playing  about  his 
toothless  mouth.  On,  on,  he  rushed,  with  unabated 
fury,  directly  towards  the  petrified  group.  iJut  the  in- 
stant he  reached  the  charmed  circle  his  progress  was 
arrested.  Not  a  hoof  could  pass  the  magic  bound  ;  the 
desperate  rearings,  plungings  and  snortings  of  the  horse 
nor  the  fiery  glaring  and  spurring  of  the  rider  could  avail. 
But  in  that  alarming  attitude  of  affairs  the  affrighted 
diggers  could  not  continue  their  work,  and  the  tools 
fell  from  their  paralysed  hands.  Things  remained  thus 
for  some  minutes  ;  and  then  began  a  frantic  race  around 
the  circle,  the  distance  narrowing  at  every  turn.  Just 
on  the  verge,  the  furious  beast  wheeled  and  reared  and 
plunged  as  if  determined  to  dash  across  in  spite  of  fate 
itself  David  now,  for  the  first  time,  showed  signs  of 
terror.  With  flashing  eyes  and  hissing  breath  the  fiery 
steed  poised  himself  on  his  hind  feet,  while  his  rider,  in 
stentorian  voice  vociferated : 


MONEY    DIGGERS.  45  I 

"  By  my  blood  what  do  ye  here  ?  ye  are  well  set  to 
work,  filching  my  gold,  hard  earned  upon  the  sea,  by 
dagger  and  by  fire.  But  the  devil  will  yet  save  his  own, 
I  wot.     Aroynt  ye,  or  bear  a  pirate's  malediction  ! " 

The  ponderous  hoofs  were  quivering  almost  directly 
over  the  head  of  David,  who  had  stepped  forth  to  see 
that  there  was  no  break  in  the  ring,  when,  thrown  sud- 
denly off  his  guard,  with  trembling  lips  he  gave  utter- 
ance to  a  propitiatory  ejaculation  in  these  imploring 
words  of  his  euphonious  native  tongue  —  ahquontama- 
unnean  nummatcheseongask  ;  pohquohwussinnean. 

In  an  instant,  down  came  the  hoofs,  almost  upon  his 
head  ;  and  then  rang  the  exulting  laugh  of  the  rider  out 
over  the  sea  ;  and  the  wild  neigh  of  the  horse  was  louder 
still.  The  spell  was  broken  and  there  was  no  longer  a 
charm-protected  bound.  They  pranced  within  the  ring 
without  restraint ;  the  stone  fell  back  over  the  chest ; 
the  affrighted  diggers  scattered  for  dear  life. 

The  triumphant  horse  and  his  rider,  having-  accom- 
plished their  purpose,  sped  off  among  the  trees,  the  one 
whinnying  and  the  other  laughing  till  the  old  woods 
resounded  with  the  weird  clamor. 

When  the  balked  diggers  had  sufficiently  recovered 
to  confer  together  on  their  sudden  and  sad  defeat,  David 
had  disappeared,  not  to  be  seen  again  in  the  settlement 
for  half  a  year.  It  was  apparent  that  it  would  be  useless 
to  make  any  further  attempt  that  night ;  and  no  one, 
indeed,  had  the  spirit  to  propose  any  thing  leading  to 
that  end.  There  appeared  to  have  been  no  serious 
injury  to  any  one,  and  they  soon  in  silence  gathered  up 
their  tools  and  proceeded  to  embark  for  home.  They 
were  not  jolly  over  the  result  of  the  expedition,  in  a 
pecuniary  way  ;  and  the  temper  in  which  they  met  the 
jokes  and  jeers  of  their  fellow- villagers  may  be  imagined. 


452  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

Whether  any  subsequent  attempt  was  made  to  ex- 
hume the  treasure-chest,  which  some  of  them  declared 
they  had  seen  with  their  own  eyes,  is  not  known.  But 
it  is  fair  to  conclude  that  had  treasure  ever  been  found 
there  the  fact  would  have  been  recorded  in  history. 

Our  old  friend  Joel  Dunn  will  now  make  his  final 
appearance  in  our  little  drama.  It  seems  by  the  quaint 
old  writer's  jottings  that  Joel's  wonderful  experience  on 
the  dreadful  night  of  the  earthquake  wrought  in  him 
an  extraordinary  reformation.  From  an  abandoned  to- 
per he  suddenly  assumed  rigidly  temperate  habits,  ac- 
cording to  the  idea  of  the  time.  He  was  still  employed 
more  or  less  about  the  Anchor ;  but  all  the  threats  and 
persuasions  of  the  jovial  landlord  could  not  induce  him 
to  dispense  one  drop  more  of  the  fiery  stimulant  which 
the  court  license  allowed  and  in  some  instances  en- 
joined. No  persuasions  of  the  modish  traveller  in  the 
parlor  or  of  the  gruff  lounger  at  the  bar  could  induce  a 
breach  over  his  principles.  It  must  not  be  concluded, 
however,  that  malt  liquors  and  certain  other  drinks, 
more  or  less  stimulating,  brewed  from  herbs  and  roots, 
were  among  the  things  proscribed  by  his  awakened 
conscience.  O,  no  ;  temperance  ideas  did  not  attain  to 
that  high  standard  till  generations  after.  Tea  and  coffee 
were  not  then  in  use  hereabout,  and  something  beyond 
spring  water  must  be  had  to  supply  the  cravings  of  the 
natural  appetite.  Many  such  indulgencies  were  under 
a  sort  of  half-way  covenant  —  an  expression  which  had 
a  peculiar  charm  to  our  pious  ancestors. 

It  is  proposed  now  to  show  in  what  a  tragic  manner 
the  eventful  life  of  Joel  was  brought  to  a  close,  and  how 
far  rum,  good  Barbadoes  rum,  was  concerned  in  the 
singular  catastrophe. 


DEATH    OF   JOEL    DUNN.  453 

Bearing  in  mind  the  fact  that  Captain  Marshall  was 
a  military  man,  and  had  borne  such  an  active  and  as  he 
claimed  conspicuous  part  in  the  civil  wars,  it  will  readily 
be  conceived  that  he  highly  enjoyed  the  training  days 
of  the  colonial  soldiery.  Indeed  he  sometimes  travelled 
to  Boston  to  witness  a  monthly  parade ;  and  never 
failed  to  be  present  on  a  field  day  of  the  famous  organi- 
zation known  at  this  day  as  the  Ancient  and  Honorable 
Artillery. 

On  the  parade  days  of  the  local  train-bands  he  was 
in  high  spirits ;  and  sometimes  invited  them  to  the 
Anchor,  for  exercise  on  the  green  that  stretched  off  in 
a  westerly  direction.  His  jolly  heart  would  overflow  on 
such  occasions  ;  the  rank  and  file  were  treated  to  the 
best  malt  liquors  the  cellar  afforded,  and  the  officers 
to  something  more  decidedly  stimulating,  till  tongues 
were  loosened  and  not  unfrequently  fistic  encounters 
engaged  in.  He  would  sometimes,  under  the  inspiration 
of  the  moment,  seize  the  sword  of  the  commander,  and 
proudly  poising  himself  on  a  protruding  rock  order  the 
ranks  to  file  in  review  before  him,  giving  orders  in 
Cromwellian  voice  and  style,  and  proclaiming  the  strat- 
egy by  which  the  battle-field  is  won.  Never  has  the 
delightful  village  of  Saugus  been  so  stirred  as  on  these 
occasions. 

An  unusually  grand  parade  was  to  take  place  on  a 
certain  summer  day,  and  troops  from  Salem  and  Boston 
were  to  take  part  in  the  evolutions.  The  hospitable 
doors  of  the  Anchor  were  to  open  to  some  of  the  chief 
colonial  dignitaries,  and  great  were  the  preparations. 
A  whole  pipe  of  Barbadoes  rum  had  been  bespoken  — 
but  how  many  poor  Indian  slaves  the  importer  had  sent 
out  in  exchange  for  it  it  is  fruitless  now  to  inquire  —  and 
scon  after  the  shades  of  the  evening  preceding  the  great 


454  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

day  began  to  prevail,  the  creaking  wheels  of  the  weary- 
jogging  team  bearing  the  precious  freight,  was  heard 
away  off  on  the  Boston  road.  In  due  time  it  arrived 
and  was  drawn  up  on  the  little  hill  just  east  of  the 
house,  the  wheels  carefully  chocked,  and  the  cattle  taken 
to  the  barn.  There  it  remained,  an  object  of  peculiar 
interest  to  the  frequenters  of  the  place  as  they  passed 
in  and  out.  But  it  grew  late  and  all  became  quiet. 
The  night  was  cloudy  and  dark. 

Joel  had  been  over  from  his  cottage  to  assist  in  the 
preparations  for  the  coming  day  and  as  he  went  across 
the  yard  towards  his  home  a  ray  from  his  lantern  was 
thrown  upon  the  cask  so  unconcernedly  resting  on  the 
hill.  A  sort  of  inspiration  seized  him.  He  seemed 
with  the  eye  of  a  seer  to  look  forward  into  the  scenes 
of  the  coming  day  —  scenes  of  drunkenness  and  rioting 
such  as  he  now  abhorred.  He  thought  he  saw  evil 
spirits  gambolling  about  their  hoop-bound  home  and 
blue  flames  playing  around.  A  lively  apprehension  of 
what  his  duty  was  and  a  sturdy  determination  to  do  it 
impelled  him  to  immediate  action.  Placing  his  lantern 
in  such  a  position  that  it  could  cast  no  betraying  ray, 
he  seized  the  iron  bar  with  which  he  had  been  working 
and  stealthily  creeping  up  to  the  old  dray  on  which  the 
doomed  enemy  was  resting,  without  a  moment's  pause 
dealt  vigorous  blows  upon  the  wheel-chocks,  till  one 
by  one  they  were  dislodged,  and  down  started  dray  and 
cask  with  the  speed  and  force  of  a  launching  ship, 
tearing  along  furiously  and  more  furiously  as  the  descent 
increased.  The  cask  and  the  dray  soon  parted  company, 
and  the  former,  bouncing  over  all  impediments,  quickly 
gained  the  salt  creek  below.  The  hoops  were  loosened 
in  the  rough  transit  and  the  head  fell  out  just  as  the 
water  was  reached.     The  dray  came  lumbering  along 


TRAVELLING     DOCTORS,  455 

after,  at  a  speed  it  had  never  before  dreamed  of  attaining. 
But  poor  Joel,  where  was  he?  Alas,  the  victim  of  zeal 
in  a  good  cause.  He  was  struck  by  the  dray  and  borne 
down  in  such  a  manner  that  his  head  fell  under  a  wheel 
and  he  was  so  dreadfully  crushed  that  in  a  few  hours 
he  breathed  his  last. 

Irregular  practice  in  the  healing  art  came  under  the 
notice  of  the  Court  at  a  very  early  day.  Travelling 
doctors  were  drifting  about  in  all  directions,  and  the 
good  people  were  constantly  exposed  to  dangerous  im- 
positions.    On  the  Court  records  we  find  this  entry : 

"  Nich  :  Knopp  is  fyned  v/.  for  takeing  vpon  him  to 
cure  the  scurvey  by  a  water  of  noe  worth  nor  value, 
which  he  solde  att  a  very  deare  rate  ;  to  be  imprisoned 
till  hee  pay  his  fRne,  or  giue  securitye  for  it,  or  els  to  be 
whipped,  &  shalbe  lyable  to  any  mans  accon  of  whome 
hee  hath  receaued  money  for  the  s^  water." 

That  was  scurvy  business  for  one  to  be  engaged  in. 
But  it  is  fair  to  infer  that  the  concoction  was  not  posi- 
tively injurious,  the  misdemeanor  lying  rather  in  obtain- 
ing money  under  false  pretenses.  And  if  it  could  be 
said  of  many  of  the  preparations  which  at  this  day  are 
so  ostentatiously  put  before  the  public  as  specifics,  that 
they  are  harmless,  their  makers  would  be  less  deserving 
of  condemnation. 

Little  is  known  of  Mr.  Knopp,  but  so  far  as  appears 
he  got  into  the  world  in  some  under-hand  way,  though 
that  was  not  his  fault ;  and  it  makes  but  little  difference 
how  one  gets  here,  provided  he  behaves  himself  while 
here  and  leaves  in  no  discreditable  way.  His  life  was 
not  a  successful  and  to  all  appearance  not  a  happy  one, 
for  he  was  of  that  jealous,  grumbling  turn,  that  made 
him  obnoxious  to  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact, 


456  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

and  the  very  atmosphere  in  which  he  moved  chilling 
and  uncomfortable.  With  him  the  wind  was  always 
east.  He  was  continually  complaining  of  being  "  put 
upon,"  and  had  not  power  to  meet  the  inevitable  ills  of 
life  with  common  courage.  Such  persons  are  to  be 
pittied,  though  they  ought  to  form  better  habits. 

Notwithstanding  he  was  dealt  with  as  above,  and  was 
subsequently  subjected  to  other  penalties,  he  long  con- 
tinued his  practice,  and  during  the  time  Mr.  Armitage 
remained  landlord  of  the  Anchor  made  monthly  visits 
to  the  settlement,  having  his  head  quarters  at  that 
house.  When  here,  he  made  long  excursions  in  the 
woods,  to  gather  herbs  and  roots,  to  work  up  on  his 
return  home. 

It  happened,  during  one  of  his  professional  visits,  that 
the  Governor,  being  on  an  eastern  tour,  had  stopped  for 
the  night  at  the  Anchor,  and  owing  to  excessive  fatigue, 
for  he  had  journeyed  a-foot,  and  the  day  was  warm,  or 
perhaps  from  some  other  predisposing  cause,  he  was 
taken  violently  ill  soon  after  retiring.  Doctor  Knopp 
was  of  course  instantly  summoned.  After  an  examina- 
tion, he  really  had  little  conception  of  what  treatment 
the  case  demanded,  but  looked  wise,  and  his  diagnosis 
was  sufficiently  unintelligible  to  confound  all  present  — 
much  as  some  doctors  of  the  present  day  do  when 
puzzled.  Something,  however,  it  was  very  evident, 
must  speedily  be  done,  or  the  gubernatorial  chair  would 
be  vacant,  and  flustrated  by  the  dignity  of  his  patient 
and  the  necessity  of  instant  action,  he  seized  the  pack- 
age of  that  day's  gathering,  and  handed  the  maid  a 
handful  for  steeping.  A  decoction  was  soon  prepared 
and  a  portion  administered  by  the  cautious  attendant. 
The  pain  had  in  the  mean  time  considerably  abated, 
and  the  Governor  sank  into  a  quiet  doze.     Not  long 


TRAVELLING     DOCTORS,  457 

after,  however,  he  rose  up,  and  with  the  ejaculation 
"  beautiful ! "  began  to  giggle,  in  a  very  undignified 
manner.  Then  he  threw  up  the  clothes  and  declared 
that  every  thing  was  lovely  ;  that  he  was  light  as  a 
feather,  and  thought  he  should  "  go  up."  He  slapped 
his  sides  and  laughed  till  heard  all  over  the  house. 
The  inmates  were  aroused,  and  hastening  to  the  cham- 
ber, found  his  excellency  sitting  on  the  side  of  the  bed, 
disrobed  as  he  was  on  retiring,  staring  about  as  if  wit- 
nessing a  grand  show,  laughing  and  reiterating  the 
information  that  something  was  "  beautiful." 

It  was  apparent  that  his  faculties  were  straying,  and 
naturally  enough  concluded  that  there  had  been  some 
mistake  in  the  medicine.  The  doctor  seemed  really 
alarmed  and  at  once  ordered  an  emetic,  well  knowing 
that  to  be  at  least  a  safe  resort  in  most  cases  of  doubt 
and  emergency.  No  time  was  lost  in  preparing  the 
stomach-disturbing  draught  and  requesting  the  patient 
to  immediately  quaff  the  same.  "  Take  a  puke,  is  it .-' " 
said  he,  with  a  nod  and  wink,  "  yes,  yes,  to  be  sure ; 
a  dozen,  if  that  jolly  old  doctor  says  so."  One  sip  was 
taken  ;  then  a  glance  at  the  wall  and  the  ejaculation 
"  beautiful !  "  then  down  went  the  whole  at  a  single  gulp, 
meeting  nothing  in  the  way  but  the  once  more  ascend- 
ing word  "  beautiful."  The  quick  emetic  performed  its 
duty  fearlessly  and  thoroughly  ;  and  presently  the  docile 
patient  was  lost  in  a  quiet  sleep. 

By  the  next  day  things  had  got  round  about  right 
with  the  Governor.  He  did  not  appear  to  have  any 
recollection  of  what  occurred  during  his  hallucination, 
and  of  course  no  one  had  the  impoliteness  to  refer  to  it. 
In  his  weakened  condition,  however,  it  was  not  thought 
prudent  for  him  to  proceed  on  his  journey,  and  the 
Anchor  rejoiced  in  his  presence  another  day.  Doctor 
T 


45  8  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

Knopp  disappeared  before  sunrise,  without  demanding 
pay  for  his  eminent  services. 

It  is  probable  that  the  "  beautiful "  medicine  was  a 
decoction  of  the  leaves  of  some  plant  of  the  night-shade 
family  —  not  unlikely  thorn-apple,  which  though  poison- 
ous was  much  used  by  the  old  herb  doctors  and  is 
indeed  in  repute  among  regular  physicians  at  the  present 
day.  The  effect  is  not  always  the  same  on  different 
persons.  The  writer  has  known  a  case  very  much  like 
that  of  the  Governor. 

Whether  a  complaint  was  ever  made  against  Doctor 
Knopp,  for  mal-practice  in  this  instance,  is  not  known. 
Undoubtedly  he  made  a  mistake  in  the  plant  when  he 
handed  out  the  leaves  with  the  direction  to  "steep." 
And  it  is  not  certain  that  the  Governor  ever  knew  much 
about  what  really  did  take  place  during  the  night  of  his 
"  beautiful "  visions.  It  was  reported  that  the  doctor 
finally  lost  his  life  by  an  over-dose  of  his  own  medicine. 

It  will  not  be  considered  out  of  place  in  this  connec- 
tion to  say  a  few  words  concerning  the  lady-like  Mrs. 
Hawkins  who  was  well  known  about  the  Plantation  in 
its  early  days.  By  the  records  of  the  Court,  we  find 
her  thus  taken  in  hand  : 

"Jane  Hawkins,  the  wife  of  Rich''d  Hawkins,  had 
liberty  till  the  beginning  of  the  third  mo.,  called  May, 
&  the  magistrates  (if  shee  did  not  depart  before)  to 
dispose  of  her ;  &  in  the  meane  time  shee  is  not  to 
meddle  in  surgery,  or  phisick,  drinks,  plaisters,  or  oyles, 
nor  to  question  matters  of  religion,  except  w*  the  elders 
for  satisfaction." 

Mrs.  Hawkins  was  a  woman  of  some  education  and 
great  energy  of  character ;  was  the  mother  of  a  fond 
family  and  led  a  good   moral  life.     Her   errors  were 


TRAVELLING    DOCTORS.  459 

rather  of  doctrine  than  practice  and  related  more  to 
rehgion  than  to  physics. 

At  a  very  early  period  antinomian  doctrines  began  to 
disturb  the  churches,  and,  singularly  enough,  some  of 
the  most  able  disseminators  were  women.  Mrs.  Haw- 
kins was  one  of  them  ;  and  in  her  zeal  she  ran  into  rank 
familism.  As  just  remarked,  she  does  not  appear  to 
have  herself  been  addicted  to  any  particular  vices, 
though  her  teachings  were  of  the  broadest  free-love  cha- 
racter. 

It  seems  at  first  sight  quite  unaccountable  that  under 
the  rigid  requirements  of  those  days  in  religious  faith 
and  practice,  such  inroads  should  have  been  made  by 
this  class  of  new-lights.  But  yet,  when  it  is  considered 
how  naturally  a  mind,  receiving  with  full  force  the  doc- 
trine of  arbitrary  election,  might  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  personal  conduct  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
ultimate  fate,  it  will  be  perceived  how  all  limitation 
would  soon  be  erased.  The  churches,  in  their  troubles, 
of  course  appealed  to  the  Court,  as  a  sort  of  judicial 
adjunct ;  and  among  the  proceedings,  for  many  years, 
are  to  be  found  evidence  of  their  efforts  to  protect  the 
established  faith. 

Mrs.  Hawkins  was  on  familiar  terms  with  the  cele- 
brated Mrs.  Hutchinson,  and  the  elders  were  greatly 
exercised,  in  the  fear  that  the  young  women,  especially, 
might  become  indoctrinated.  And  there  was  some 
ground  for  suspicion  as  to  the  purity  of  her  designs, 
in  the  fact  of  her  having  some  kind  of  a  preparation, 
bewitching  to  the  village  maidens  especially,  called  a 
"  love  medicine,"  reputed  to  be  potent  in  affairs  of  the 
heart.  This  certainly  was  a  piece  of  quackery  very 
detrimental  to  her  reputation.  And  it  is  hardly  con- 
ceivable that  so  strong-minded  and  intelligent  a  woman 


460  THE   ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

as  she  appears  to  have  been,  should  have  allowed  her- 
self to  thus  trifle,  and  become  an  object  of  reasonable 
suspicion.  There  were,  indeed,  other  damaging  rumors 
about  her  practising  witchcraft  as  well  as  medicine ; 
and  it  was  positively  asserted  that  she  had  "  much 
familiarity  with  the  devil,  in  England,  when  she  dwelt 
at  St.  Ives's."     She  was  also  called  a  fortune-teller. 

There  was  a  story  about  her  having  a  familiar  spirit 
who  attended  her,  especially  at  night,  in  the  shape  of  a 
cat,  sometimes  assuming  one  color,  at  other  times  an- 
other. Some  of  the  good  people  declared  that  they 
had  thrown  stones  at  it,  when  so  near  that  they  were 
sure  it  must  have  been  hit,  but  without  the  slightest 
effect.  One  man  said  he  got  near  enough  to  whack  it 
with  his  walking  stick,  but  he  seemed  only  to  beat  the 
air.  Another  man  said  that  when  passing  along  the 
road  by  the  river,  one  night,  he  met  the  lady  walking 
hastily  towards  Nanny  Burrill's  cottage,  and  a  couple 
of  rods  behind  was  the  cat  sitting  on  a  stone,  washing 
her  face  with  her  paw.  He  at  once  concluded  that  she 
was  washing  up  to  attend  the  meeting  at  Nanny's  ;  but 
thought  he  would  at  once  spoil  that  business.  Having 
his  loaded  gun  with  him,  he  got  behind  a  bush,  and  with 
the  muzzle  within  three  or  four  inches  of  the  cat's  head, 
fired.  He  was  sure  the  shot  hit  her,  but  she  took  not 
the  least  notice  of  the  discharge,  finished  her  toilet,  and 
deliberately  walked  off  before  he  had  recovered  from  his 
astonishment  and  had  time  to  reload.  But  the  experi- 
ence of  one  of  the  grave  magistrates  was  the  most 
mortifying.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would 
"look  after  the  diabolical  plotters."  Accordingly  he 
one  night  took  it  upon  him  to  follow  Mrs.  Hawkins. 
Not  discovering  any  thing,  after  a  long  tramp,  he  began 
to  imagine  that  his  own  awful  presence  had  prompted 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  46 1 

the  familiar  spirit  to  remain  invisible.  But  just  then, 
on  turning  a  point  of  woods,  he  stepped  ahiiost  upon 
what  he  at  once  supposed  to  be  the  dreaded  object.  In 
an  instant,  the  cudgel  with  which  he  was  armed  flew 
up,  and  then  like  lightning  down  upon  the  beast.  But 
he  was  not  quick  enough  to  prevent  the  whisking  up 
of  a  bushy  tail,  and  the  shedding  forth  of  a  perfume 
that  for  a  time  took  away  his  very  breath.  An  hour 
afterwards,  the  searcher  after  the  "  diabolical  plotters  " 
was  seen  in  his  garden,  by  the  light  of  a  lantern  burying- 
certain  garments. 

Mrs.  Hawkins  always  protested  that  her  reputation 
suffered  more  from  the  "malice  of  the  elders,"  than 
from  any  misconduct  of  her  own.  Her  visits  to  our 
Plantation  resulted  in  a  number  of  conversions  ;  but 
after  her  banishment,  with  few  exceptions  they  fell  away. 
The  sentence  of  banishment  was  in  these  terms  : 

"Jane  Hawkins  is  enjoyned  to  depart  away  to  morrow 
morning  &  not  to  returne  againe  hither,  upon  paine 
of  severe  whiping  &  such  other  punishment  as  the 
Court  shall  thinke  meete ;  &  her  sonnes  stand  bound 
in  20/.  to  carry  her  away  according  to  order." 

Mrs.  Hawkins's  career  very  well  illustrates  that  of  a 
number  of  able  women  of  the  period. 

On  the  seventeenth  of  June,  1879,  ^^^  most  interest- 
ing celebration,  perhaps,  that  ever  occurred  within  the 
borders  of  the  old  Third  Plantation,  took  place  in  Lynn. 
It  was  the  celebration  of  the  two  hundred  and  fiftieth 
anniversary  of  the  first  settlement.  This  is  not  the 
place  for  the  introduction  of  details  of  the  proceedings 
on  that  notable  occasion,  and  it  is  alluded  to  chiefly  on 
account  of  the  opportunity  to  qualify  the  almost  univer- 
sally received  opinion  that  it  was  the  first  event  of  the 


462  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

kind  ever  transpiring  here.  But  the  old  manuscript 
shows  that  the  first  "jubilee  of  years"  was  celebrated 
in  grand  style,  for  those  times,  and  that  the  Anchor 
Tavern  was  the  scene  of  the  "  banquet." 

And  the  year  1679  ^^^s  marked  not  only  as  that  on 
which  the  first  half  century  of  the  years  of  Lynn  was 
completed,  but  also  by  the  sadder  event  of  the  death 
of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Whiting,  in  compliment  to  whom 
the  very  name  of  the  place  was  bestowed. 

All  will  agree  that  some  account  of  this  early  cele- 
bration should  be  preserved,  in  as  tangible  a  form  as 
possible.  And  perhaps  the  writer  will  be  thanked  for 
proceeding  in  his  poor  way  to  present  a  few  of  the  inci- 
dents, arranged  in  as  good  order  as  the  information, 
derived  from  various  sources,  will  allow. 

The  bright  morning  was  ushered  in  by  sundry  dis- 
charges from  the  little  old  Dutch  cannon  stationed  on 
Sadler's  Rock ;  but  no  church  bells  sent  forth  their 
sunrise  greetings,  for  the  simple  reason  that  there  were 
no  such  "  engines  of  sound  "  within  the  municipal  bor- 
ders. The  early  riser,  by  stationing  himself  on  some 
elevation,  might  have  seen  here  and  there  wreaths 
of  illuminated  smoke  lazily  ascending  above  the  trees, 
and  marking  the  spots  where,  during  the  night,  the 
animating  bonfire  had  blazed. 

By  the  time  the  tops  of  the  giant  pines,  under  the 
smiles  of  the  rising  sun,  had  donned  their  robes  of  gold* 
en  green,  the  people  of  every  neighborhood  were  astir. 
But  the  cock's  shrill  clarion  was  hardly  heard  within 
the  borders  of  the  Plantation  ;  sad  silence ;  to  be  ex- 
plained by  the  bustling  cook-maid.  Poor  chanticleer ! 
when  he  looked  around  upon  his  reduced  family,  he  had 
no  heart  to  lift  up  his  voice,  on  the  jubilant  occasion  ; 
his  kindred  and  friends  had  literally  gone  to  pot  and  spit. 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  463 

There  was  a  grand  procession,  headed  by  the  train- 
band, with  their  ponderous  muskets  and  bandoleers, 
each  almost  staggering  under  the  weight  of  an  enormous 
bear-skin  cap,  surmounted  by  a  waving  eagle  feather. 
Then  there  were  representatives  of  different  trades, 
each  with  some  implement  of  his  vocation  conspicuously 
displayed  ;  and  fishermen,  farmers,  and  all  such  as  were 
ready  to  undergo  the  fatigue  of  a  somewhat  extended 
march.  But  perhaps  the  most  interesting  feature  was 
the  Indian  section,  which  comprised  representatives, 
young  and  old,  from  various  tribes,  all  seeming  to  regard 
the  affair  as  belonging  to  the  red  men  as  much  as  to 
the  whites.  Many  of  them  carried  implements  of  the 
chase,  others  domestic  utensils,  others  again  war-clubs, 
tomahawks,  or  bows  and  arrows.  Some  wore  beautiful 
feather  mantles,  and  some  were  decorated  profusely 
with  strings  of  wampum. 

The  military  had  as  good  music  as  could  be  procured, 
the  drum  and  fife  being  the  chief  instruments,  though  a 
battered  speaking-trumpet,  which  had  some  years  before 
been  lost  overboard  from  a  vessel  and  picked  up  on  the 
beach,  now  and  then  sent  forth  a  tempestuous  note. 
The  Indians  were  content  with  nothing  but  their  native 
drums  and  conch-shell  horns.  And  on  the  whole  the 
combined  music  was  rather  unique  than  euphonic ; 
especially  as  now  and  then  during  the  march  the  roguish 
young  savages  would  halt  and  set  up  such  a  terrific 
war-whoop  as  would  ring  over  the  hills  and  echo  off  in 
the  woods,  as  if  defiant  warriors  were  assembling  from 
all  directions. 

The  Indians  likewise  insisted  on  taking  along  with 
them  sundry  pets  to  partake  of  the  enjoyments  —  two 
interesting  little  bear  cubs,  a  bald  eagle,  an  owl,  an 
enormous  tortoise,  captured  in  Tomlins's  Swamp  by  a 


464  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

little  squaw,  the  dusky  maiden  herself  accompanying 
her  pet ;  together  with  a  variety  of  frisky  snakes. 

In  the  afternoon,  chiefly  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Anchor, 
for  there,  towards  the  close  of  day,  the  banquet  was  to 
be  held,  were  trials  of  skill  among  the  young  men,  in 
wrestling,  running,  and  rowing  in  canoes  on  the  river. 
In  these  contests  the  young  Indians  were  almost  always 
the  winners,  laughing  at  the  awkwardness  of  their  com- 
petitors and  calling  Jthem  squaws,  which  in  several  cases 
gave  so  much  offense  that  it  required  the  interference 
of  Captain  Marshall,  with  his  parliamentary  sword  and 
resolute  brow,  to  prevent  serious  quarrels. 

The  Indian  boys,  too,  did  something  to  add  to  the 
round  of  entertainment,  by  showing  their  skill  in  the 
use  of  the  bow  and  arrow,  jumping,  climbing,  and 
other  sinewy  exercises.  Even  the  Indian  girls  endea- 
vored to  do  something  to  add  zest  to  the  occasion,  by 
exhibiting  some  of  the  florid  and  almost  wanton  sports 
of  their  woodland  life  ;  a  few  of  the  elder  ones,  however, 
devoting  themselves  to  the  preparation,  after  their  native 
style,  of  various  dishes  for  the  feast.  And  they  received 
satisfactory  reward  in  the  commendation  of  the  super- 
visors of  the  repast. 

But  let  us  now  come  to  the  "banquet,"  which  by 
those  ordained  to  partake,  was,  no  doubt,  regarded  as 
the  chief  feature  of  the  day. 

The  sun  had  already  turned  downward  from  his  meri- 
dian height  when  the  company  filed  into  the  long,  low 
back  room  of  the  Anchor,  which  answered  as  a  dining 
hall  as  well  as  kitchen  —  so  low,  indeed,  that  the  taller 
ones  were  obliged  to  bow  their  heads  to  escape  knocks 
against  sundry  glistening  utensils  and  garden  products^ 
that  depended  from  the  rafters. 

Captain  Marshall  was  a  good  provider,  and  on  the 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  465 

table  appeared  game  from  the  forest  and  fish  from  the 
sea,  as  well  as  fresh  supplies  from  the  piggery  and  the 
barnyard  ;  and  of  the  products  of  the  vegetable  garden 
and  the  orchard  there  was  an  abundance.  Some  savory 
dishes  had  been  contributed  by  neighboring  townspeople 
and  divers  Indian  matrons  had  sent  in  specimens  of 
their  achievement  in  the  culinary  art.  Altogether,  as 
Mr.  Laighton,  the  town  clerk,  unctuously  declared,  there 
never  had  been  so  "deluding" — alluring,  he  must  have 
meant  —  a  feast  spread  from  that  time  back  to  the  day 
when  the  Plantation  began.  "  No,"  added  Goodman 
Tarbox,  "  nor  will  there  be  another  equal  to  it,  till  the 
very  airth  goes  topsy-turvy  —  you  see  if  there  is,  Master 
Laighton."  Unfortunately,  neither  he  nor  Mr.  Laighton 
was  able  to  appear  at  the  banquet  in  1879,  ^*^  settle  the 
question  by  comparison,  up  to  that  time. 

As  Mr.  Tarbox  took  a  view  over  his  great  round- 
glassed  spectacles  down  the  table  his  eye  fell  on  Matthew 
Stanley  who  interposed  the  remark,  in  a  testy  tone,  that 
if  it  were  prophesying  time  he  too  would  predict  that  in 
two  hundred  years  there  would  be  more  people,  by  hun- 
dreds, in  Lynn,  and  many  new  and  grand  things.  There 
might  even  be  a  mayor  and  aldermen  and  council-men  — 
a  great  borough,  perhaps,  or  a  city  with  a  city  hall.  And 
then,  when  the  two  hundred  and  fiftieth  anniversary 
came  round,  if  it  ever  did  come,  would  they  not  want  to 
have  a  banquet  that  would  outdo  this  of  the  fiftieth,  about 
which  they  might  hear  —  the  mayor  attending  in  his 
scarlet  robe  and  the  aldermen  in  their  gowns  .-'  But  he 
hoped  by  that  time  some  people  would  know  more  and 
do  better  than  some  people  he  then  had  in  his  eye. 
The  last  sentence  was  rapped  out  in  a  spiteful  tone  and 
with  eye  resting  point-blank  on  Mr.  Tarbox,  who  well 
understood  what  application  to  make.  No  cordial  feeling 
T*  30 


466  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

had  existed  between  them  for  many  years,  their  differ- 
ence arising  from  the  fact  that  Stanley  had  been  com- 
plained of  before  the  court  for  winning  the  affections 
of  Tarbox's  sister  without  the  consent  of  her  parents,  as 
the  law  required,  and  had  been  fined  five  pounds,  with 
two  shillings  and  sixpence  costs.  And  believing  the 
prosecution  was  instigated  by  this  brother,  with  whom 
he  had  had  some  difficulty  in  a  trade,  he  often  took 
occasion  to  show  his  gentle  resentment.  However,  the 
little  exhibition  of  feeling  ended  with  a  harmless  inter- 
change of  frowns. 

That  the  banquet  was  attended  by  the  chief  men 
of  the  settlement  there  is  abundant  evidence,  though 
social  distinctions  were  then  differently  marked  from 
what  they  are  at  present.  No  doubt  the  toothsome 
viands  were  most  largely  attractive  to  some,  while  the 
opportunity  for  the  interchange  of  congratulations  on 
the  successes  of  the  past  and  hopeful  anticipations 
of  the  future  operated  with  others  ;  while  others  again, 
unquestionably  rejoiced  in  the  opportunity  to  make  a 
spread. 

No  one  was  more  kindly  or  lovingly  greeted  than  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Whiting,  who  for  more  than  forty  years  had 
ministered  to  the  spiritual  wants  of  the  people.  His 
age  was  now  above  four  score  years,  and  in  addition  to 
the  common  infirmities  of  old  age,  he  had  for  months 
been  suffering  from  disease.  Though  anxious  to  be 
present  he  could  not  have  reached  the  Anchor  had  not 
the  neighbors  provided  a  sort  of  nondescript  vehicle  for 
his  transport  by  human  hands  in  a  manner  to  overcome 
the  inequalities  of  the  road.  He  was  called  upon  to 
say  grace,  though  that  good  old  English  custom  was 
very  uncommon  in  New  England  at  that  period,  and 
responded  with  the  dignity  and  fervor  for  which  he  was 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  467 

remarkable,  though  his  voice  could  be  heard  by  but  a 
few  of  those  nearest  him.  During  the  festivity  he  sat 
in  Captain  Marshall's  great  easy-chair,  partaking  very 
sparingly  of  the  viands,  and  on  the  whole  rather  a  quiet 
spectator  of  the  animated  scene  than  a  participant.  He 
however  had  encouraging  remarks  to  make,  in  broken 
sentences,  to  those  about  him,  and  suggestions  as  to 
the  future  conduct  of  affairs  ;  to  which  were  added,  in 
his  hopeful  way,  predictions  concerning  the  future  pros- 
perity and  distinction  of  the  place  for  whose  good  he 
had  so  long  and  prayerfully  labored.  Before  the  final 
dispersion  of  the  company  he  was  reconveyed  to  his 
home,  in  the  same  gentle  manner  by  which  he  had  been 
brought ;  and  nothing  appears  to  indicate  that  he  suf- 
fered injury  from  the  excursion,  which  he  evidently 
much  enjoyed,  though  it  was  not  many  weeks  before  he 
was  laid  in  his  final  resting  place,  in  the  Old  Burying 
Ground. 

No  set  speeches,  so  far  as  appears,  were  made  at  this 
semi-centennial  celebration,  the  whole  proceedings  being 
rather  of  the  free-and-easy  order,  each  in  his  own  way 
contributing  to  the  entertainment.  And  is  not  that  a 
way  more  to  be  commended  than  the  modern  one  of ' 
dampening  if  not  suppressing  much  of  the  vivacity  and 
cheery  expression  by  set  proceedings  and  formal  speech- 
making  ? 

Among  the  others,  our  Indian  friend,  David  Kunksha- 
mooshaw,  was  present.  He  had  lighted  up  the  darkness 
of  the  preceding  night,  to  the  dismay  of  the  owls  and  bats, 
by  such  a  bonfire  on  the  summit  of  what  is  now  known 
as  Reservoir  Hill,  as  was  never  equalled  excepting  by 
the  Centennial  Bonfire  there,  on  the  morning  of  the 


468  THE    ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

fourth  of  July,  1876.  He  had  perambulated  with  the 
procession  through  the  whole  of  its  fatiguing  march,  so 
arrayed  in  eagle  feathers  and  spoils  from  humbler  winged 
tenants  of  the  forest,  that  he  resembled  some  gigantic 
bird,  in  unique  plumage,  erect  and  pompous.  He  had 
taken  upon  himself  to  marshal  the  Indian  division,  and 
did  it  with  a  severity  of  manner  and  pomposity  that 
was  very  entertaining  to  those  who  enjoyed  the  ludicrous. 
He  would  now  and  then  whack  a  young  savage  over  the 
shoulders,  if  he  lagged,  or  snake  him  from  the  ranks  in 
the  most  violent  manner.  The  young  wretches,  however, 
did  not  seem  much  to  fear  him  or  respect  his  authority. 
At  the  feasting  board  he  had  lain  aside  only  such  of  his 
trappings  as  were  detrimental  to  the  free  exercise  of  his 
gastronomic  functions. 

David  seldom  forgot  the  dignity  of  his  descent,  and 
was  as  seldom  unmindful  of  his  territorial  claims.  He 
was  an  heir  of  the  ancient  lords  of  the  soil  and  had 
never  divested  himself  of  inherited  rights,  whatever  they 
were ;  but  upon  that  rather  important  point  he  had  a 
very  vague  notion.  It  will  be  borne  in  mind  that  this 
celebration  was  seven  years  before  he  and  his  co-heirs 
signed  the  deed  relinquishing  all  their  right  in  the  soil 
of  Lynn.  He  had  often  asserted  his  claims  in  terms 
more  direct  than  gentle,  and  sometimes  in  decidedly 
offensive  ways.  In  this,  he  differed  from  most  Indians  ; 
for  they  were  generally  so  careless  about  territorial 
possessions  that  they  would  dispose  of  almost  any  tract 
at  almost  any  price ;  and  it  made  no  sort  of  difference 
whether  they  owned  it  or  not,  if  they  could  only  get  the 
pay.  Witness  the  sale  of  Nahant  by  Poquanurn  to  Mr. 
Dexter,  for  a  suit  of  clothes.  After  the  clothes  were 
worn  out  it  was  found  that  the  wily  Indian,  at  the  time 
he  sold,  had  no  title  to  the  peninsula. 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  469 

David  seemed  to  ponder  a  great  deal  over  his  claims 
and  at  times  exhibited  such  a  lively  apprehension  of 
what  he  deemed  his  wrongs  that  it  was  positively  dan- 
gerous to  oppose  him.  His  idea  appeared  to  be  that 
he  had  a  right  in  the  soil  and  consequently  a  right  in 
whatever  the  soil  produced  —  rather  natural  reasoning, 
perhaps,  from  the  postulate.  Instances  of  his  abrupt 
way  of  enforcing  his  claims  might  be  given,  almost 
without  number. 

He  was  once  passing  a  pumpkin-patch  on  the  river 
bank,  and  without  deigning  to  salute  the  man  at  work 
there,  began  to  select  such  as  he  proposed  to  take  as 
his  share.  The  man,  not  knowing  David,  interposed 
sharply  for  the  protection  of  his  property.  At  that, 
the  Indian,  with  no  prelude  save  one  of  his  appalling 
native  vociferations  hurled  one  of  the  pumpkins  at  the 
head  of  the  other  with  such  force  as  to  knock  him 
senseless  to  the  ground  ;  and  before  he  recovered  had 
departed,  taking  with  him  such  spoil  as  he  could  carry. 
David  also  at  one  time  grievously  disturbed  the  ven- 
erable Mr.  Whiting  by  laying  claim  to  a  quantity  of  cider 
which  had  been  expressed  from  apples  that  grew  in  an 
orchard  planted  on  a  clearing  somewhere  near  the  site 
afterwards  occupied  by  the  Old  Tunnel  Meeting-house. 
The  good  man,  in  endeavoring  to  pacify  him,  surren- 
dered half  a  barrel  of  the  liquor  ;  and  a  grand  carouse 
the  red  gentry  had  when  the  proceeds  of  the  compromise 
arrived  at  Pine  Hill.  There  was  no  end  to  his  raids  on 
the  flower  gardens  of  the  village  dames,  for  he  delighted 
to  strut  about  with  half  a  dozen  red  peonies,  or  purple 
lilacs,  or  other  such  showy  embellishments  nodding  in 
his  head-band.  He  continued  to  chafe  and  swagger 
about  his  rights  in  the  land  till  he  received  his  compen- 
sation and  signed  the  deed. 


470  THE    ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

At  the  banquet  board  also  appeared  Dr.  Philip  Read, 
the  first  resident  physician  in  the  place.  He  had  just 
made  his  ornamental  appearance  in  this  quarter ;  but 
what  other  portion  of  the  heritage  had  been  left  to  mourn 
his  departure  is  not  known.  He  was  a  man  of  some 
skill  and  large  pretensions  in  the  healing  art ;  and  had 
also  acquired  a  reputation  as  an  exorcisor,  or  rather  a 
discoverer  in  occult  science.  He  was  the  same  individ- 
ual who,  the  next  year,  1680,  complained  to  the  county 
court  of  Margaret  Gifford,  as  being  a  witch,  asserting 
that  "  he  verily  believed  that  she  was  a  witch,  for  there 
were  some  things  which  could  not  be  accounted  for  by 
natural  causes." 

The  Doctor  was  a  man  of  middle  age  ;  but  yet,  con- 
sidering the  wrinkled  and  cadaverous  appearance  of  his 
countenance  and  the  attenuated  condition  of  his  whole 
physique  one  would  surely  conclude  that  he  would  never 
again  see  his  hundredth  year.  He  was  small  in  stature, 
and  usually,  on  great  occasions  like  the  one  now  under 
notice,  arrayed  himself  in  a  manner  more  remarkable 
than  befitting.  Leather  small-clothes  and  blue  leggins 
with  glistening  brass  buckles  at  the  knees,  and  large, 
thick  shoes  of  uncurried  leather  constituted  the  livery 
of  his  nether  person.  Above,  appeared  a  doublet  of 
green  woolen,  with  red  stripes,  and  over  that  a  sort 
of  coatee  with  an  enormous  turn-over  collar.  His  iron- 
gray  hair  grew  in  frowsy  tufts,  a  few  locks  shyly  stray- 
ing down  the  forehead  as  if  striving  to  get  a  peek  at  the 
little  gray  eyes  that  blinked  beneath.  Very  readable 
crow-tracks  adorned  the  temple  corners  of  the  eyes ; 
and  the  whole  facial  surface  together,  resembled  an 
ancient  wrinkled  and  mildewed  parchment,  upon  which 
father  Time  had  for  many  years  been  scribbling  his 
hieroglyphics.     But  the  most  observable  feature  about 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  47 1 

his  whole  person  was  the  cue,  which  hung  quietly  down 
from  the  back  of  his  head  when  the  interior  was  in 
repose.  But  when  the  elements  within  were  in  activity, 
the  orb  would  suddenly  bow  forward  ;  and  then  the  cue 
would  stick  up  in  a  most  extraordinary  manner  —  stiff  as 
the  handle  of  a  sauce-pan  —  perhaps  from  its  being  so 
tightly  wound  in  its  eel-skin  covering. 

Well,  both  David  and  the  Doctor  were  present  at  the 
feast ;  and  it  unfortunately  happened  that  they  occupied 
places  directly  opposite  each  other.  They  had  previ- 
ously had  some  acquaintance  and  some  quarrels.  The 
Doctor  had  unsparingly  denounced  David's  land  claims, 
especially  so  far  as  they  touched  a  cleared  acre  or  two 
that  he  himself  had  enclosed  and  planted,  insisted  that 
the  town  had  been  very  much  "  debilitated "  by  the 
preposterous  demands,  and  once  in  town  meeting  advo- 
cated the  passage  of  votes  similar  to  those  passed  in 
some  other  settlements,  of  which  the  following  are 
specimens  :  Voted,  That  the  earth  is  the  Lord's  and  the 
fulness  thereof  Voted,  That  the  earth  is  given  to  the 
saints.      Voted,  That  we  are  the  saints. 

And  there  was  another  matter  of  discord  between 
them.  David's  theories  about  charms  and  sorceries  in 
general  were  greatly  at  variance  with  the  Doctor's. 
For  instance  on  the  momentous  question  whether  the 
upper  or  lower  lip  of  a  toad  should  be  put  into  the 
charm-pot  when  the  mystic-ring  was  formed,  they  were 
at  the  very  antipodes,  though  they  agreed  that  if  the 
whole  toad  were  put  in  the  end  would  be  answered. 
They  also  disagreed  on  that  still  unsettled  question 
whether  fresh  or  dried  witch-hazel  bark  is  most  effica- 
cious in  curing  the  wounds  inflicted  by  evil  spirits. 

Being  in  such  a  position  at  the  table  that  the  very 
breath  of  each  might  play  in  the  other's  face,  it  was 


472  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

natural  enough,  perhaps,  even  on  this  joyful  occasion, 
that  the  discussions  on  their  undetermined  points  should 
be  renewed  whenever  there  was  a  brief  suspension  of 
the  engorging  exercise.  At  all  events  the  discussions 
were  renewed,  and  from  moderation  became  warm,  and 
from  warmth  merged  into  fierceness.  They  both  finally 
rose  to  their  feet,  the  Indian  storming  in  the  best 
English  he  could  command,  at  the  "  no  witch  man 
good,  ugh  !  steal  great  man  Injan  ground,  ugh  !  match- 
enekuk  quengig  !  Dam  !  "  The  Doctor  on  his  part  be- 
came so  enraged  that  his  cue  rose  perpendicularly,  his 
face  turning  downward  as  if  he  were  preparing  to  butt, 
after  the  fashion  of  an  old  ram.  The  Indian  instantly 
saw  his  opportunity.  Quick  as  lightning  the  cue  was 
in  the  grasp  of  his  dusky  hand,  and  down  went  the 
fated  head  souse  into  a  calabash  of  smoking  clam-broth, 
spattering  the  unctuous  liquor  in  all  directions  ;  and 
there  it  was  held  in  spite  of  all  the  struggling  till  the 
interposition  of  others  saved  the  Doctor  from  almost 
fatal  consequences. 

A  great  uproar  of  course  succeeded.  The  poor  Doc- 
tor was  so  horribly  scalded  that  he  bore  the  scars  to  the 
end  of  his  life.  This  occurrence  formed  an  episode  that 
for  a  time  had  a  dampening  effect  on  the  festivities. 
However,  there  being  a  sort  of  comical  side  to  it,  the 
.spirit  of  jollity  presently  regained  the  ascendancy. 

Joseph  Armitage  was  likewise  of  the  company,  he 
who  so  many  years  before  had  with  such  credit  filled  the 
post  of  landlord  of  the  Anchor,  entertaining  at  times 
the  highest  colonial  officials.  After  a  life  of  toil,  with 
intervals  of  more  than  common  hardship,  he  was  now 
old  and  poor,  and  had  for  a  long  time  borne  a  reputation 
for  ill-tenjper  :and  peevishness,  though  no  one  charged 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  473 

him  with  moral  delinquencies.  Indeed  his  was  just 
such  a  character  as  might  naturally  have  been  formed 
by  the  circumstances  of  his  career.  He  had  been  so 
long  subjected  to  the  buffets  of  fortune  and  the  inhospi- 
talities  of  the  world  that  when  an  occasional  favor  was 
bestowed  he  was  wont  to  receive  it  rather  with  apathy 
than  any  expression  of  gratitude,  just  as  if  he  regarded 
it  as  partial  compensation  for  continuous  adversity. 
On  the  death  of  his  wife,  however,  for  it  appears  that 
"  Jann  the  wiff  of  Joseph  Armitage  Dyed  the  3  March, 
1676-1677,"  the  asperity  of  his  temper  began  somewhat 
to  soften ;  and  on  this  occasion  he  seemed  highly  to 
appreciate  the  neighborly  greetings  of  those  about  him, 
returning  them  with  heartiness.  The  attentions  of 
Captain  Marshall,  in  particular,  so  overcame  him  that 
his  red  eyes  grew  redder  and  redder  and  more  and  more 
dewy. 

Next  to  Dr.  Read,  at  the  banquet  table,  sat  an  eccen- 
tric character  of  the  name  of  Makepeace  —  John  Make- 
peace. Dr.  Reed  and  he  had  formed  an  acquaintance 
on  the  very  day  the  former  first  entered  the  Anchor 
and  with  a  professional  air  deposited  his  saddle-bags  on 
the  bar-room  settle.  And  their  acquaintance  received 
a  relish  from  their  frequent  and  warm  disputations. 
His  studies,  as  opportunity  admitted,  were  directed  to 
the  discovery  of  means  for  the  preservation  of  health 
and  removal  of  disease  by  mechanical  means  rather 
than  by  medicine ;  in  other  words,  he  strove  to  have 
the  mechanic  take  the  place  of  the  doctor.  This,  of 
course,  did  not  suit  Dr.  Read,  and  was  the  ground 
of  many  of  their  disputes  —  one  sneering  at  the  me- 
chanical contrivances,  the  other  at  the  medicinal  prepa- 
rations. 


474  THE   ANCHOR  TAVERN. 

Mr.  Makepeace  was  a  maltster,  and  well-esteemed  for 
his  dexterity  and  industry.  He  had  a  fair  rudimental 
education,  and  spent  much  time  in  studying  such  books 
of  a  didactic  and  philosophical  character  as  he  could 
with  his  small  means  procure  ;  and  with  the  exception, 
perhaps,  of  his  occasional  acrimonious  defense  of  his 
favorite  theories  and  inventions,  would  pass  for  rather 
a  genial  and  companionable  personage. 

He  had  not  marched  with  the  procession,  but  joined 
them  as  they  filed  into  the  hall  of  feasting.  And  it  was 
on  this  propitious  occasion  that  he  appeared,  for  the 
first  time,  in  his  newly-invented  sanitary  harness.  His 
appearance  so  alarmed  some  that  they  instinctively  gave 
him  a  wide  berth,  while  others  were  so  amused  at  his 
comical  appearance  that  they  could  not  restrain  the 
most  uproarous  laughter. 

Mr.  Makepeace  was  afflicted  with  some  sort  of  spinal 
disease  —  or  at  least  he  so  fancied  —  and  began  to  droop 
under  his  apprehensions.  He  had  already  begun  to 
draw  into  a  stooping  attitude,  so  that  he  looked  down 
rather  than  up  in  his  daily  walks.  Many  regrets  did 
he  entertain  at  the  unfortunate  declination  from  his 
former  unfaulty  presence,  and  wishes  that  the  tree  had 
not  departed  from  the  bent  of  the  twig  —  especially  as 
in  pursuance  of  his  daily  avocation  it  was  in  his  way  to 
pass  the  neat  cottage  of  a  thrifty  young  widow.  As  he 
dwelt  upon  his  apprehended  deformity  he  naturally  set 
about  considering  what  was  best  to  be  done  to  avert 
the  impending  calamity,  for  he  was  one  of  those  who 
refuse  to  yield  even  to  nature  herself  without  a  hard 
struggle,  if  the  good  dame  seems  in  any  way  inclined 
to  thwart  their  aspirations. 

He  sat  in  the  Anchor  bar-room  one  night,  in  an 
absti'acted  mood,  though  an  animated  discussion  was 


FIFTIETH   ANNIVERSARY.  475 

going  on,  pondering  gloomily  upon  his  untoward  pros- 
pects and  mentally  casting  about  for  some  remedy.  All 
at  once  a  very  promising  idea  occurred,  and  so  overcame 
him  that  he  sprang  up,  and  snapping  his  fingers,  vocif- 
erated, "  I  've  got  it !  "  Of  course  the  discussion  ceased 
and  the  others  stood  staring  at  him  as  if  wondering 
what  sudden  distraction  had  seized  him.  "  Got  what.**" 
demanded  Captain  Marshall.  But  without  making  any 
reply  he  instantly  shot  from  the  door. 

He  made  his  way  directly  to  the  shabby  little  black- 
smith shop  that  cowered  in  a  bushy  hollow  half  a  mile 
down  the  lane.  There  he  found  the  ingenious  worker 
in  iron  battering  away  upon  a  glowing  ploughshare, 
within  a  charmed  circle  of  lively  shooting  stars.  On 
announcing  his  presence  the  spiteful  shower  ceased  and 
the  sooty  mouth  opened  wi  h  a  neighborly  greeting. 
The  two  were  presently  seated  on  the  edge  of  the  water 
trough,  the  visitor  drawing  with  the  tongs,  on  the  earth 
floor,  a  diagram  of  the  invention  which  had  so  suddenly 
and  so  sharply  pictured  itself  on  his  brain  —  an  inven- 
tion which  was  to  restore  him  to  health  and  comely 
shape. 

The  blacksmith  was  a  little  dull  at  first,  but  when  the 
purpose  of  the  engine,  as  he  called  it,  was  explained,  he 
gave  divers  knowing  nods,  and  that  same  hour  began 
work  upon  it.  And  it  was  the  product  of  the  ideas  and 
negotiations  of  that  eventful  night  that  made  Mr.  Make- 
peace so  conspicuous  at  the  public  feast. 

The  contrivance  consisted  of  a  metal  band  fitting 
around  the  forehead,  with  an  iron  arm  projecting  from 
the  back  of  the  head,  some  two  feet,  in  the  manner  of 
a  crane,  to  the  extremity  of  which  weights  could  be 
attached  sufficient  to  force  the  head  back  and  straighten 
up  the  spine,  thus  reducing  the  curvature.     Odd  as  the 


476  THE   ANCHOR  TAVERN. 

"engine"  was  in  appearance,  it  seems  to  have  had  a 
really  beneficial  effect.  It  was,  to  be  sure,  somewhat 
inconvenient  in  the  way  of  wearing  a  hat ;  but  that 
was  in  a  measure  obviated  by  a  cut  into  which  the  crane 
could  be  adjusted. 

The  invention,  too,  was  useful  otherwise  than  for 
sanitary  purposes.  The  projecting  part  formed  a  con- 
venient arm  on  which  to  hang  light  articles  for  transport- 
ation ;  its  many  uses  becoming  from  day  to  day  more 
apparent.  Sometimes  his  dinner  basket  would  be  seen 
swinging  there ;  and  it  is  related  that  he  was  one  day 
noticed  emerging  from  the  woods  with  a  brace  of  quails 
and  a  dead  rabbit,  swinging  gaily  from  side  to  side. 
This  was  considered  by  Mr.  Makepeace  one  of  the 
greatest  of  his  achievements  in  support  of  his  theory 
respecting  the  advantages  of  mechanical  over  medicinal 
appliances  in  the  war  against  disease.  But  common 
sense  teaches  the  advantage  of  either  in  a  given  case, 
without  theoretical  elaboration  or  exemplification. 

It  is  impossible  now  to  discover  precisely  what  effect 
his  invention  had  on  his  growing  infirmity ;  though  as 
before  remarked  it  was  beneficial ;  and  no  doubt,  had 
he  lived  long  enough,  he  would  have  become  as  upright 
physically  as  morally  he  had  ever  been. 

Mr.  Makepeace  certainly  contributed  his  share  to  the 
interest  of  the  occasion,  for  some  of  the  company  seemed 
absolutely  wonder-struck  either  at  his  unexampled  inge- 
nuity or  his  folly.  David  Kunkshamooshaw,  especially, 
evidently  not  exactly  understanding  the  object  intended, 
must  needs  take  occasion  to  go  round  half  a  dozen  times 
and  closely  examine,  taking  hold  of  the  extremity  and 
gently  swaying  it  back  and  forth  ;  once  testing  its 
power  by  adding  to  the  iron  ball  on  the  end  a  crook-neck 
squash  which  he  took  from  a  nail  in  one  of  the  rafters. 


FIFTIETH   ANNIVERSARY.  477 

Finally,  in  a  sort  of  grunting  soliloquy,  he  muttered, 
"  Me  vum  ;  fishum-stick ;  wehe  pohquohwussinnean  ;  ki ! 
dam!" — no  doubt  taking  it  to  be  some  sort  of  fishing 
apparatus. 

The  invention,  as  well  it  might,  became  a  pet  with  its 
inventor  ;  a  very  idol ;  partly  from  its  good  effect  on  his 
health  and  partly  as  the  offspring  of  his  genius.  But 
how  often  it  is  that  our  most  cherished  objects  prove 
our  destroyers.  This  idol  was  the  death  of  its  creator 
and  worshipper ;  though  perhaps  his  valuable  life  had 
been  prolonged  by  the  very  means  that  finally  extin- 
guished it.  He  was  rambling  in  the  woods,  one  summer 
day,  having  a  little  blue-eyed  maiden  by  the  hand,  when 
she  suddenly  sprang  from  his  side  to  avoid  an  ugly 
snake,  and  he,  hastily  turning,  caught  the  crane  in  the 
fork  of  a  tree,  giving  his  head  such  a  wrench  that  his 
neck  was  instantly  broken. 

Our  aged  and  genial  friend  Obadiah  Turner  was 
there,  but  unable  to  take  any  active  part  in  the  doings 
though  evidently  enjoying  them.  He  had  risen  from  a 
sick  bed  at  the  entreaty  of  Mr.  Laighton  who  had  sent 
for  him  his  great  lumbering  wood-wagon,  drawn  by  an 
ox  and  two  bulls.  An  easy  chair  and  some  Indian 
blankets  were  placed  in  the  wagon,  and  the  attentive 
David  Kunkshamooshaw  had  furnished  it  with  a  great 
supply  of  herb-bundles  and  medicine-pots,  besides  pro- 
viding him  with  his  own  great  talisman,  wound  about 
with  strings  of  the  richest  wampum.  This  talisman,  by 
the  way,  it  is  judged,  was  the  tooth  of  an  enormous  beast, 
equal  in  size  to  the  mastodon,  a  relic  of  which  David 
could  give  no  further  account  than  that  his  grandfather 
said  it  belonged  to  a  beast  that  he  slew  while  standing 
with  its  fore  feet  on  Nahant  and  its  hind  on  Egg  Rock. 


478  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

This  wonderful  tooth  is  said  to  have  been  in  existence 
as  late  as  1709,  at  which  time  a  Jesuit  priest  spent  a 
day  or  two  here,  and  expressed  a  great  desire  to  see 
it.  It  was  looked  up  and  shown  to  him,  and  on  exam- 
ination he  pronounced  it  to  be  the  tooth  of  some  antedi- 
luvian animal  or  of  a  unicorn  or  devil.  He  begged  for 
it  but  it  was  refused  him  ;  and  it  seems  now  to  be  for- 
ever lost ;  though  it  may  indeed  be  safely  reposing  in 
some  Jesuit  college  collection. 

Much  against  the  advice  of  Dr.  Read  Mr.  Turner 
insisted  upon  travelling  with  the  procession,  saying 
that  it  was  probably  the  last  time  he  should  ever  be 
able  so  thorougly  to  traverse  the  settlement,  and  ob- 
serve the  many  changes  since  the  Plantation  began. 
He  however  rather  followed  the  procession  than  moved 
along  with  it,  for  his  team  so  lagged  that  the  main  body 
was  often  almost  out  of  sight.  Occasionally  they  would  ■ 
halt  for  him  and  at  other  times  the  teamster  would  make 
short  cuts  across  clearings. 

When  Mr.  Turner  arrived  at  the  Anchor  at  the  hour 
of  feasting  his  entrance  was  greeted  with  hearty  ap- 
plause. And  he  was  installed  at  table  in  the  same  easy 
chair  in  which  he  had  performed  his  journey.  The 
princely  decoration  of  David's  talisman  was  still  conspic- 
uous upon  him,  and  attracted  much  attention.  He  was 
a  little  more  free  than  Mr.  Whiting  in  the  use  of  the 
good  things  and  not  so  desirous  of  early  retirement. 
But  he  had  evidently  over-estimated  and  over-taxed  his 
powers.  The  consequence  was  that  he  finally  fell  for- 
ward in  a  sort  of  fainting-fit.  Of  course  there  was  a 
rush  towards  him  and  an  application  of  the  best  resto- 
ratives at  hand.  Dr.  Reed  was  so  blinded  and  suffering 
from  his  rough  baptism  in  hot  broth  that  he  hardly  knew 
what  he  was  about.     David  rudely  thrust  him  aside 


FIFTIETH   ANNIVERSARY.  479 

and  proceeded  to  take  the  case  into  his  own  hands  with 
all  the  airs  of  a  regular  doctor  as  he  no  doubt  thought 
he  was.  From  a  pouch  under  his  side  feathers  he  drew 
forth  a  little  leather  bag  and  took  from  it  a  bit  of 
eel-skin,  in  three  or  four  thicknesses  of  which  a  thimble- 
ful of  ointment  was  wrapped,  with  which  he  began  to 
besmear  the  patient's  face  ;  and  instantly  such  an  abom- 
inable smell  arose  that  every  one  near  gasped  for  breath. 
It  seemed  as  if  there  had  come  a  puff  from  the  nethermost 
pit.  There  was  no  longer  a  crowd  about  the  sick  man 
and  David  looked  around  as  if  wondering  why  they  had 
so  suddenly  dispersed.  He  gave  a  few  vigorous  rubs, 
and  the  good  man  had  so  far  recovered  as  to  beg  for 
"  air ; "  and  air  there  soon  was  in  abundance,  for  the 
doors  and  windows  flew  open  in  a  trice ;  and  the  reno- 
vating odor  of  burning  rags  was  added. 

At  the  end  of  the  table  where  were  seated  the  chief 
dignitaries  of  the  settlement,  was  Thomas  ITcvvhall,  a 
man  of  respectability,  though  perhaps  remarkable  only 
as  being  the  first  white  person  born  on  the  soil  of  the 
Third  Plantation,  and  as  the  owner  of  the  mill  which 
expressed  the  best  cider  in  the  whole  region.  He  was 
the  father  of  ten  children,  eight  or  nine  of  whom  were 
living  at  the  time  of  this  celebration.  They,  in  their 
turn,  became  fathers  and  mothers,  the  race  increasing 
till,  at  the  time  of  the  celebration  of  the  two  hundred 
and  fiftieth  anniversary,  it  was  almost  beyond  number- 
ing. Much  deference  was  paid  to  him  for  the  interest 
he  took  in  all  public  affairs,  and  for  his  private  virtues. 

He  had  brought  as  a  present  to  Mr.  Turner  a  can 
of  his  very  best  cider,  and  as  the  old  gentleman  was 
preparing  to  retire,  stooped  down  to  take  it  from  the 
place  of  deposit,  under  the  table,  to  make  a  formal  pre- 


480  THE   ANCHOR   TAVERN.      ■ 

sentation,  when,  lo !  it  was  not  there.  Nothing  could 
be  found  of  it,  and  the  aged  diarist  had  to  depart  without 
the  neighborly  gift.  Some  one  remembered  that  David, 
when  superintending  the  remedial  efforts  at  the  time 
of  the  fainting-fit,  took  occasion  to  stoop  down,  several 
times,  near  where  the  can  must  have  been,  but  thought 
nothing  of  it,  not  knowing  of  any  thing  being  there ; 
and  another  observing  individual  remembered  that  when 
David  went  off  the  feathers  about  the  upper  part  of  his 
right  arm  seemed  considerably  pressed  out,  as  if  the  limb 
had  a  mysterious  something  in  charge.  At  all  events, 
Mr.  Turner  lost  his  cider,  and  Mr.  Newhall  the  pleasure 
of  the  presentation. 

Rollicking  John  Davis,  too,  was  there,  in  high  spirits, 
and  sang  one  or  two  jolly  songs  and  told  a  laughable 
story. ;  but  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  he  went  home  in  good 
season  and  in  good  condition.  It  must  be  admitted 
that  John  would  now  and  then  deviate  a  little,  and  in 
consequence  a  slight  domestic  breeze  would  sometimes 
occur  when  he  joined  the  family  circle,  inasmuch  as 
Lady  Davis  was  not  famed  for  her  gentle  and  forbear- 
ing disposition.  On  the  contrary,  she  took  a  sort  of 
masculine  pride  in  always  holding  herself  in  readiness 
to  repel  aggression  from  any  quarter.  To  use  her  own 
phrase,  she  would  send  back  as  hard  pumpkins  as  were 
sent  to  her.  This  damaging  entry  has  stood  upon  the 
colonial  records  ever  since  1680:  "We  present  the 
wife  of  John  Davis  of  Lynn,  for  breaking  her  husband's 
head  with  a  quart  pot."  What  provocation  John  gave 
his  lawful  spouse,  does  not  appear ;  nor  why  she  used 
that  particular  weapon,  excepting  that  he  might  have 
stored  "something"  in  it.  But  we  are  constrained  to 
repeat  that  it  is  to  be  hoped  he  went  home  at  the  close 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  48  I 

of  this  joyful  day  in  a  condition  that  could  not  justify 
any  quart-pot  discipKne,  and  correlatively  that  he  there 
found  things  in  such  good  order  as  to  require  no  autho- 
ritative interference. 

But  space  will  not  admit  of  the  individual  introduction 
of  many  of  the  worthies  present  on  that  interesting 
occasion.  The  dignified  and  the  merry-making,  the 
quiet  and  the  buoyant,  the  aged  and  the  young,  were 
there.  And  the  whole  proceedings,  excepting  perhaps 
the  two  or  three  contretemps  alluded  to,  gave  much 
satisfaction  and  furnished  subjects  for  discussion  in 
the  Anchor  bar-room  and  gossip  in  the  meeting-house 
porch  for  many  months. 

The  young  Indians,  who  had  evidently  done  what 
they  could  to  add  to  the  enjoyments  of  the  day,  were, 
of  course,  not  to  be  overlooked  in  the  matter  of  feasting. 
Ample  provision  was  made  for  them  in  the  great  barn 
of  the  Anchor,  for  David  intimated  that  it  would  not  do 
to  have  them  in  the  house,  as  they  would  be  likely  to 
shy  about  over  and  under  the  table  and  perhaps  amuse 
themselves  by  throwing  the  dishes  around,  or  at  the 
heads  of  the  company. 

To  the  barn  they  were  banished.  Some  boards  had 
been  horsed  up,  and  such  provisions  as  David  thought 
most  fitting  to  the  youthful  Indian  stomach  were  placed 
upon  them.  The  young  savages  rushed  in  with  a  whoop 
that  made  the  old  barn  ring  again,  and  after  a  few  pre- 
liminaries, each  one  helped  himself  to  what  he  most 
fancied,  bear-steak  answering  as  the  chief  staple ;  and 
then,  seated  upon  a  horse  trough  or  other  stable  fixture, 
or  lounging  on  the  hay-mow,  partook  of  his  chosen 
dainty. 

U  31 


% 


482  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN, 

When  their  appetites  were  satisfied,  they  commenced 
a  most  uproarous  and  indescribable  round  of  sports, 
dancing  and  leaping  about  like  unbroken  colts,  upsetting 
the  provision  boards,  and  making  targets  of  the  few 
dishes  that  had  contained  the  meats,  yelling  and  chant- 
ing their  war  and  love  ditties.  The  sedate  cattle  gazed 
on  the  rampant  scene  with  a  look  of  wonder,  mingled, 
however,  with  thankfulness,  for  one  of  the  first  things 
the  young  rogues  did  on  entering  the  barn  was  to 
supply  each  animal  with  an  enormous  heap  of  the  best 
provender  they  could  lay  hands  on  —  corn,  pumpkins, 
barley  oats,  all  forming  component  parts  of  each  heap. 
The  poor  old  rooster,  too,  who  had  moped  about  all  day, 
was  so  revived  and  cheered  by  the  animated  scene  that 
he  could  not  avoid  every  now  and  then  signifying  his 
appreciation  by  a  lusty  crow.  In  one  respect,  too,  the 
feasters  in  the  barn  were  more  favored  than  their  co- 
celebrators  in  the  house,  and  that  was  floral  decorations. 
Some  spendid  collections  of  forest  flowers  had  been 
sent  in  by  Indian  women  and  maidens.  When  Mr. 
Laighton  found  it  out,  he  declared  that  they  were  in- 
tended for  the  decoration  of  the  grand  table,  and  un- 
hesitatingly accused  David  of  having  connived  at  the 
diversion.  But  all  the  reply  he  got  was,  "  Me  vum ! 
ugh  !  dam  !  ketassutamoonk  !  pohquohwussinnean  ! " 

The  time,  crowded  as  it  was  with  hilarious  enjoyment, 
passed  rapidly  on  till  the  waning  hours  of  afternoon,  no 
one  appearing  to  have  observed  a  portentous  cloud 
rising  in  the  west,  till  it  suddenly  grew  so  dark  that  the 
features  of  the  nearest  neighbors  were  hardly  distin- 
guishable. Then  a  vivid  flash  of  lightning,  instantly 
followed  by  a  terrific  peal  brought  every  one  who  hap- 
pened to  be  seated,  to  his  feet.     The  lightning  had 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  483 

evidently  struck  near,  for  the  electric  shock  was  percep- 
tibly felt  by  several  of  the  company.  It  was  soon  found 
that  the  sign-post  had  been  struck,  splintered  and  scar- 
ified in  a  most  remarkable  manner.  At  its  foot,  pros- 
trate and  dead  lay  the  poor  old  bear,  no  more  to  be  the 
terror  of  village  maiden,  nor  to  pursue  his  round  of 
tricks  for  the  amusement  of  the  traveller  or  gaping 
holiday  crowd. 

For  some  minutes  a  tempest  of  unwonted  fury,  with 
rain  and  hail  prevailed.  The  gusts  were  fearful,  filling 
the  air  with  branches  wrenched  from  the  trees,  scatter- 
ing the  Captain's  pile  of  winter  logs  about  the  lot,  and 
indeed  making  a  general  overturn  and  dispersion  of  all 
moveable  things.  A  goat  was  taken  up  bodily  and  sent 
flying  by  the  window  and  over  the  knoll  towards  the 
river,  so  rapidly  as  to  be  out  of  sight  in  a  moment. 
And  what  is  remarkable  the  animal  was  not  seen  again 
for  a  week,  when  he  was  found  quietly  browsing  at  Pines 
Point.  It  was  generally  supposed  from  this,  that  he 
was  carried  some  two  miles,  flying  through  the  air. 
The  more  rational  conclusion,  however,  seems  to  be  that 
he  was  forced  into  the  river  and  swam  across  to  the 
Point.  In  company  with  him  was  found  an  aged  goose 
which  the  Captain  and  the  cook  had  supposed  to  be 
of  the  number  sacrificed  for  the  feast.  One  or  two 
Anchor  windows  were  blown  in,  and  Mr.  Purchis  had 
his  right  eye  injured  by  a  hail  stone.  The  schoolmaster, 
too,  who  had  recently  come  in  from  Connecticut,  to 
**  read,  to  wright  &  refmetic  "  the  youth,  as  one  of  the 
negotiators  expressed  it  in  the  correspondence,  while 
lingering  about  the  board  with  a  still  unsatisfied  appe- 
tite, had  one  of  his  cheeks  curiously  inlaid  with  window 
glass.  On  the  whole,  however,  the  damage  by  this  vio- 
lent elemental  turmoil  was  not  very  great. 


484  THE   ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

The  tornado,  for  such  the  tempest  was  evidently 
entitled  to  be  called,  did  not  long  continue.  The  equa- 
torial torrents  ceased,  and  a  bright  streak  appeared  in 
the  west,  which  rapidly  enlarged  till  the  declining  sun 
came  out  in  his  most  glowing  smiles  to  bid  good-night  to 
earth,  rejoicing  in  her  renovated  vesture.  And  most 
of  the  company,  even  including  Dr.  Read  with  his 
bandaged  head,  sallied  forth  to  a  neighboring  cliff,  to 
contemplate  the  gorgeous  rainbow  spanning  the  dark 
cloud-curtain  that  hung  in  the  east,  and  seeming  like 
Nature's  arch  of  triumph  over  elemental  discord. 

Here  we  must  bid  a  kind  adieu  to  all  those  who 
assembled  around  the  festive  board  on  that  memorable 
occasion  —  the  celebration  of  the  fiftieth  anniversary 
of  the  ground-breaking  of  the  sturdy  old  Third  Planta- 
tion. We  trust  that  all  retired,  cheered  by  the  remin- 
iscences of  the  past  and  animated  by  the  anticipations 
of  the  future.  And  we  further  trust  that  of  the  good 
things  furnished  from  the  Captain's  bar  no  intemperate 
use  was  made.  The  worthy  people  of  those  days  had  not 
the  blessings  of  tea  and  coffee,  and  hence  required  more 
heroism  in  withstanding  temptation.  Having  been  pre- 
sent at  the  celebration  of  the  two  hundred  and  fiftieth 
anniversary,  in  1879,  ^^^  writer  is  able  exultingly  to 
testify  that  no  dereliction  appeared  there,  in  the  matter 
of  drink,  for,  wisely  enough,  tea  and  coffee  flowed  in 
abundance,  and  no  stimulants  of  higher  proof  were 
provided.  And  it  is  ardently  recommended  that  our 
virtuous  example  be  followed  by  all  who  in  the  future 
engage  in  celebrating  Third  Plantation  anniversaries. 

The  evening  of  this  remarkable  day  was  by  the  young 
people  devoted  to  a  frolicksome  gathering  in  the  large 


FIFTIETH   ANNIVERSARY.      *  485 

upper  room  of  the  Anchor,  which  had  been  appropri- 
ately decorated  for  the  occasion.  No  bunting  with 
stars  and  stripes  flaunted  there,  to  be  sure ;  but  there 
was  among  the  "  curiosities  "  an  old  battle-torn  banner 
that  Captain  Marshall  had  managed  to  smuggle  over, 
and  which  he  claimed  to  have  fought  under  while  follow- 
ing the  fortunes  of  Cromwell. 

As  the  evening  waned,  a  merry  dance  took  place  ;  and 
some  of  the  elder  people,  who  would  not  be  thought 
to  countenance  such  a  vain  and  sinful  exercise,  but 
yet  who  could  not  forego  the  opportunity  to  witness 
that  same  vain  and  sinful  exercise,  sequestered  them- 
selves in  the  dark  cheese-room,  where,  through  a  lattice, 
they  could  hold  the  whole  expanse  of  the  creaking  floor 
in  survey.  Though  dancing  in  public  houses  was  at 
that  time  prohibited  by  law,  and  though  Captain  Mar- 
shall was  himself  a  magistrate  sworn  to  enforce  the 
laws,  he  does  not  seem  to  have  been  moved  by  these 
transactions  under  his  own  roof.  Was  he  what  they 
call  a  time  server  .'*  But  there  are  on  all  statute  books 
enactments  which  it  is  not  expected  will  be  enforced 
excepting  in  extraordinary  cases  or  under  aggravating 
circumstances.  At  all  events,  in  the  instance  now 
under  notice,  there  seemed  to  be  no  disposition  to  in- 
terfere with  the  cheery  proceedings. 

Some  of  the  romping  little  Indian  girls  were  invited 
to  this  evening  entertainment,  and  came  showily  be- 
decked in  their  woodland  finery,  which  in  most  instan- 
ces was  really  tasteful  and  becoming.  Their  glistening 
wampum  belts,  bright  blanket-scarfs  and  brilliant  feather 
head-dresses,  together  with  their  unconstrained  but  yet 
not  immodest  manners,  made  them  quite  attractive. 

The  music  was  furnished  by  a  young  French  scholar 
who  was  known  by  the  single  name  of  Conrad.     He 


4S6  THE  ANCHOR  TAVERN. 

had  mysteriously  appeared  in  the  settlement,  no  one 
having  any  knowledge  of  what  brought  him  hither  or 
why  he  remained.  As  is  not  uncommon  in  such  cases 
of  unknown  personal  history,  a  career  of  romance  was 
awarded  him ;  and  it  was  settled  that  though  born  in 
France  he  had  been  educated  in  Germany.  It  was 
apparent  that  he  was  quite  out  of  his  sphere  at  the  Iron 
Works  where  he  held  a  kind  of  clerkship.  By  his  evi- 
dently superior  education,  his  genteel  bearing  and  deli- 
cacy of  person,  he  was  supposed  to  belong  to  some 
family  above  the  common  cast.  And  then  his  manners 
were  of  that  earnest,  sincere  character  that  exercises  a 
sort  of  fascination.  But  his  musical  skill  was,  perhaps, 
above  all,  most  highly  appreciated  by  his  village  friends  ; 
and  few  gatherings  of  a  social  kind  were  thought  com- 
plete unless  he  were  present  with  his  well-tuned  Ger- 
man viol.  Of  course,  on  the  occasion  under  notice,  no 
one  could  supply  his  place.  And  the  dulcet  tones  he 
drew  forth  from  the  chords,  showed  that  he  too  could 
enter  into  the  spirit  of  such  jovial  occasions. 

But  Conrad  was  an  enthusiast  of  the  ultra  German 
school,  and  had  he  lived  in  later  days  might  have  been 
taken  for  an  infatuated  devotee  of  some  mysterious 
intellectual  theory,  or  a  spiritualist  in  the  most  extreme 
speculative  sense.  He  often  indulged  in  long,  solitary 
rambles  by  the  river  side  or  in  the  woods,  and  on  his 
return  had  strange  stories  to  tell  of  what  he  had  heard 
the  whispering  trees,  the  babbling  brooks,  or  the  moan- 
ing sea  say  concerning  his  di^ant  friends ;  or  of  their 
revelations  concerning  himself  The  very  twinkling 
of  the  stars,  during  his  nightly  saunterings,  were  often 
to  him  a  language  telling  of  scenes  traspiring  beneath 
their  gaze,  in  far-off  lands. 

As  the  evening  of  the  entertainment  at  the  Anchor 


FIFTIETH   ANNIVERSARY.  48/ 

wore  on,  Conrad's  spirits  became  gradually  depressed 
to  an  unwonted  degree ;  and  although  he  avoided  any 
manifestation  that  might  dampen  the  hilarity  of  the 
occasion,  it  became  apparent  to  those  who  could  best 
sympathise  with  such  a  nature,  that  from  some  cause 
he  had  become  deeply  affected. 

The  hour  for  the  dispersion  of  the  merry  assemblage 
arrived.  A  kind-hearted  maiden  who  lived  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Conrad's  lodging  place,  and  with  whom  he 
had  formed  a  pleasant  acquaintance,  observing  his  de- 
pressed state  of  mind,  obligingly  invited  him  to  accom- 
pany herself  and  her  affianced  in  their  homeward  walk. 
He  gladly  accepted  the  invitation,  and  the  three  departed 
upon  the  river  road,  now  so  delightful  after  the  rough 
sweeping  of  the  tempest. 

It  was  one  of  those  lovely  nights  that  in  New  Eng- 
land so  often  follow  a  tempestuous  day  ;  serene  and 
glowing  ;  so  lovely  that  even  the  weary  toiler  will  some- 
times eschew  his  very  bed  to  stroll  forth  and  enjoy  ; 
enjoy,  not  in  hilarious  excitement  but  in  chastened 
contemplation.  During  the  walk  along  the  river  bank 
Conrad  still  remained  in  a  dreamy,  abstracted  state, 
from  which  no  efforts  of  his  cheerful  companions  could 
arouse  him.  So  on  they  walked,  in  the  calm  moonlight, 
and  as  they  reached  the  foot-bridge  that  spanned  a 
sparkling  little  tributary  to  the  river,  and  paused  to 
gaze  upon  the  merry  ripples,  he  suddenly  ejaculated,  in 
the  most  earnest  tones  : 

"  Hark !  hark  !  did  you  not  hear  my  name  whispered  .'' 
The  young  pine,  yonder,  is  talking  to  the  brook,  and 
they  are  both  speaking  of  me.  For  hours  I  have  known 
that  some  sad  message  was  on  the  wing,  and  would 
reach  my  ears  before  I  slept.  They  are  talking  together, 
the  brook  and  the  pine  ;  and  they  are  telling  of  a  mes- 


488  THE    ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

sage  brought  by  the  bright  star  there  in  the  east,  a  sad 
message  for  me ;  every  twinkle  is  full  of  sorrow  and 
sympathy.  Go  on,  go  on  and  leave  me  here,  for  here 
I  must  receive  my  message." 

Hand  in  hand  the  fond  companions  strolled  slowly 
along,  not  desiring  to  obtrude  on  his  musing,  nor  to 
pass  beyond  call.  When  they  had  gained  some  distance 
on  the  other  side  of  the  stream,  they  sat  down  on  a  rock 
by  the  wayside,  in  anxious  waiting.  Finally  Conrad 
came  slowly  along ;  they  arose,  and  together  the  three 
continued  their  walk.  He  related,  with  an  air  of  in- 
creased sadness  and  in  terms  that  showed  his  utmost 
assurance  of  its  comprising  a  genuine  revelation,  the 
discourse  between  the  star,  the  brook  and  the  pine,  to 
which  he  had  listened ;  a  discourse  which  he  doubted 
not  was  intended  for  his  hearing.  The  star  had  told 
them  it  was  even  then  looking  down  into  the  sick  cham- 
ber of  his  beloved  twin  sister,  in  the  far-off  home  of  his 
childhood  ;  that  a  few  days  more  and  her  spirit  would 
take  its  flight  from  all  earthly  scenes  ;  that  with  un- 
speakable longing  her  tender  heart  was  yearning  to 
once  more  embrace  her  long  absent  brother ;  and  that 
she  was  just  then,  with  the  hol}^  father  kneeling  by  her 
bedside,  offering  up  a  fervent  prayer  that  they  might 
ere  long  meet  in  that  happy  land  where  partings  are 
not  known.  And  then,  he  said,  the  young  pine  in  an 
answering  whisper  added  that  it  was  revealed  that  he, 
Conrad  himself,  would,  before  another  moon  should  fill 
her  horn,  lie  down  to  rise  no  more ;  that  their  long 
separation  was  soon,  very  soon  to  end.  And  he  quietly 
added,  that  he  now  knew  what  uncompromising  fate 
had  decreed,  and  felt  no  desire  to  change  his  destiny, 
no  desire  that  his  own  life  should  be  prolonged  after 
hers  had  closed. 


FIFTIETH   ANNIVERSARY.  489 

The  seriousness  and  perfect  assurance  with  which 
he  received  and  announced  these  revelations  deeply  af- 
fected his  young  friends,  insomuch  that  the  remainder 
of  the  walk  was  pursued  in  almost  utter  silence. 

By  one  of  those  inexplicable  coincidences  that  some- 
times occur,  as  the  practical  jogger-on  of  this  semi-infidel 
age  would  say  —  this  age  which  seems  to  be  receding 
farther  and  farther  from  any  desire  to  study  into  the 
workings  of  nature  or  of  God's  providence  —  Conrad 
was,  within  a  few  days,  laid  upon  a  bed  of  sickness, 
from  which  he  never  seemed  to  entertain  any  expecta- 
tion or  desire  to  arise.  His  disease  was  of  an  acute 
nature  and  rapidly  progressed  towards  its  final  conquest. 
But  one  short  week,  and  the  crisis  was  reached. 

It  was  midnight.  There  Conrad  lay,  with  a  gentle 
watcher  by  his  bedside,  and  her  companion  gazing  from 
the  window  —  they,  the  two  sympathising  young  friends 
with  whose  company  he  had  been  favored  in  the  home- 
^vard  walk  from  the  Anchor  on  the  night  of  the  enter- 
tainment, having  volunteered  to  be  his  watchers.  He 
lay  softly  breathing,  for  after  an  hour  of  feverish  excite- 
ment he  had  merged  into  a  quiet  slumber.  Suddenly 
his  eyes  opened,  and  grasping  the  hand  that  lay  on  his 
pillow,  in  a  voice  of  almost  preternatural  sweetness,  he 
whispered,  "  Hark !  do  you  not  hear  those  bells  .-*  O, 
they  are  the  bells  chiming  in  the  church  tower  by  our 
dear  old  home  in  Languedoc.  They  are  tolling  —  toll- 
ing —  tolling ;  and  I  know  well  what  they  say.  They 
say  that  her  spirit  is  taking  its  flight.  They  tell  me  all 
the  story  of  her  love.  And  I  hear  the  voices  of  the 
choir  lads  ;  they  are  just  beginning  the  solemn  requiem 
chant  —  rest,  rest,  in  peace.  Yes,  yes,  I  too  am  enter- 
ing that  rest.  I  come,  com-e  co-m-e,  c-o-m-e."  His 
voice  gradually  died  away  and  he  slowly  sank  into  a 
U* 


490  THE   ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

quiet  sleep.     But  it  was  that  sleep  from  which  he  was 
no  more  to  awake. 

A  day  or  two  after,  he  was  laid  beneath  the  sod  in 
the  Old  Burying  Ground.  Many  villagers,  especially 
the  youthful,  followed  his  remains,  and  a  deep  impres- 
sion was  left  on  the  more  thoughtful  minds. 

The  multitude  who  never  reflect  upon  the  mystic 
ties  by  which  nature,  in  all  her  departments,  mental 
and  physical,  is  linked  together,  and  who  fancy  that 
any  thing  not  attainable  by  their  puny  conceptions 
must  be  worthless  speculation,  may  regard  such  pre- 
sentiments, convictions  or  impressions  as  those  of  our 
young  enthusiast,  mere  baseless  dreamings.  But  what 
are  dreams  and  visions .''  And  what  is  the  value  of 
affirmation  or  denial  in  things  that  are  altogether  beyond 
the  reach  of  human  powers  .'' 

Long  after  the  remains  of  Conrad  had  been  commit- 
ted to  their  last  resting  place  his  name  survived,  and 
for  many  seasons  there  was  a  well-trodden  footpath^ 
leading  to  his  grave,  which  was  centred  in  a  group  of 
sombre  pines  whose  ceaseless  whisperings  had  now  no 
interpreter.  His  many  kindnesses  were  unforgotten  — 
his  obliging  attendance  with  his  well-tuned  viol  at  all 
social  gatherings,  however  inconvenient  to  himself,  and 
in  utter  refusal  of  all  reward,  being  in  an  especial  man- 
ner kept  in  remembrance.  His  affecting  story  was  long 
rehearsed  by  young  and  old,  doubtless  with  some  roman- 
tic embellishments. 

But  who,  in  truth,  was  Conrad  —  whence  came  he  — 
and  what  brought  him  hither  .-*  Were  questions  like 
these  ever  satisfactorily  answered  ?  Time,  which  finally 
resolves  so  many  mysteries,  gave  some  glimpses  from 
which  a  fairly  connected  account  was  gathered,  and  a 
brief  recapitulation  will  not  be  inappropriate  here. 


FIFTIETH   ANNIVERSARY.  49 1 

In  the  early  days  of  the  Plantation,  and  soon  after 
the  doors  of  the  Anchor  were  first  opened  by  landlord 
Armitage,  upon  a  crisp  autumn  evening,  there  appeared 
for  entertainment,  a  military  officer  of  fine  presence, 
in  undress  uniform,  accompanied  by  a  lady,  somewhat 
younger  than  himself,  of  more  than  common  elegance 
of  person  and  lady-like  demeanor,  and  habited  in  a 
manner  that  indicated  a  position  above  the  ordinary 
class  of  colonial  society.  They  both  seemed  dejected 
though  much  endeared  to  each  other,  and  manifested 
great  disappointment  when  informed  that  no  other  guest 
had  arrived  that  day.  They  had  with  them  a  little  girl, 
apparently  just  verging  on  her  teens  —  as  bright,  pretty 
and  afi'ectionate  a  maiden  as  ever  justified  parental  pride. 
She  addressed  the  lady  as  mother  ;  but  nothing  further 
appeared  to  indicate  the  precise  relationship  between  the 
two  elder  ones. 

The  next  day  there  arrived  from  the  eastward  a  stran- 
ger, portly  in  person,  affable  in.  manners,  and  evidently 
one  of  position.  He  seemed  to  have  come  on  some 
business  mission,  but  was  shy  and  hesitating  in  making 
inquiries.  A  short  time  after  this  arrival  the  noon  repast 
of  the  guests  of  the  preceding  evening  was  served,  and 
the  new-comer,  on  being  informed  of  the  fact,  as  he 
made  inquiries  regarding  his  own  entertainment,  with 
some  eagerness  asked  if  he  could  not  be  admitted  to 
the  table  spread  for  them.  His  request  was  readily 
granted.  And  when  he  met  the  others  at  table,  though 
there  was  some  constraint  and  hesitancy  at  first,  it 
appeared  that  all  were  parties  to  an  expected  meeting. 
And  after  the  meal  was  ended  a  long  conversation  was 
held.  Occasionally  a  sob  was  heard,  and  earnest  but 
kind  expostulation.  The  consultation  continued  for  a 
couple  of  hours,  and  then  the  two  gentlemen  went  out 


492  THE   ANCHOR   TAVERN. 

for  a  stroll,  returning  about  the  time  for  the  evening 
meal,  of  which  they  all  partook  together.  Then  another 
conference  was  held,  which  continued  till  the  hour  of 
retirement. 

Immediately  after  breakfast,  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, a  final  meeting  was  held,  and  at  its  termination  the 
portly  gentleman  came  forth  leading  gently  by  the  hand, 
the  little  maiden,  who  was  sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would 
break,  followed  by  the  mother,  who  in  great  agitation 
bestowed  many  parting  kisses  upon  her  darling.  The 
officer  gently  took  the  almost  fainting  lady  back  to  the 
parlor.  And  long  before  noon  the  weeping  maiden,  in 
the  care  of  her  conductor,  who  in  the  most  gentle  and 
compassionate  tones  endeavored  to  soothe  her  agitation, 
was  far  away  on  the  eastern  road.  The  other  two  re- 
mained at  the  Anchor  till  near  nightfall  and  then  set 
forth  in  the  direction  of  Boston. 

Without  pursuing  this  little  history  into  minute  detail, 
it  will  be  sufficient  to  say  that  it  turned  out  that  the 
last  comer  was  a  Roman  Catholic  priest,  and  had,  no 
doubt  in  pursuance  of  some  previous  arrangement,  come 
hither  to  receive  the  maiden,  whose  name  appears  to 
have  been  Hortense,  and  convey  her  to  Montreal,  to  be 
placed  in  a  convent  to  receive  the  care  and  education 
which,  especially  in  unsettled  times,  institutions  of  the 
kind  are  so  well  fitted  to  bestow.  Whether  she  were 
a  child  of  unsanctioned  love,  or  born  in  wedlock  does 
not  appear ;  but  it  is  evident  that  means  were  not 
wanting  to  secure  for  her  every  thing  necessary  for 
generous  living  and  for  the  development  and  cultivation 
of  her  florescent  mind. 

Hortense  was  soon  installed  in  her  new  home,  gath- 
ering around  a  circle  of  genial  friends,  in  whose  society 
the  pensive  recollections  of  her  early  loss  of  a  mother's 


FIFTIETH   ANNIVERSARY.  493 

loving  care  seemed  gradually  to  fade  away.  Her  pro- 
gress in  study  and  various  accomplishments,  elicited 
the  marked  commendation  of  her  guardians,  and  her 
amiable  manners  and  ready  wit  qualified  her  to  adorn 
any  society. 

Pleasant  months  and  even  years  glided  by.  Hortense 
still  remained  at  the  institution  ;  and  it  was  fondly 
hoped  by  her  spiritual  guides  that  she  would  before 
long  sever  the  few  ties  that  still  bound  her  to  the  outer 
world  and  become  a  recluse.  Indeed  she  herself  seems 
to  have  had  many  hard  mental  struggles  touching  what 
was  pertinaciously  urged  upon. her  as  her  chief  earthly 
duty.     So  things  went  on. 

Though  the  rules  of  the  convent  school  admitted  of 
no  intimacy  between  the  sexes,  the  restraints  were  not 
such  as  to  preclude  social  intercourse  to  a  very  limited 
extent,  and  occasionally  the  young  students  who  were 
receiving  instruction  in  the  neighboring  college  found 
means  to  enjoy  a  little  chat  with  the  pretty  maidens. 

Among  the  college  students  was  the  son  of  a  French 
gentleman,  who  had  been  sent  hither  that  he  might  in 
so  retired  a  spot,  away  from  the  temptations  and  evil 
attractions  of  his  native  land,  pursue  those  studies  and 
form  those  habits  that  would  best  fit  him  for  the  posi- 
tion it  was  designed  he  should  some  day  occupy  in  the 
church. 

It  was  the  fate  —  good  or  evil  —  of  Hortense  and 
Louis  sometimes  to  meet ;  and  step  by  step  an  intimacy 
grew  up ;  that  again,  step  by  step  led  to  a  mutual 
attachment  which  in  its  turn  increased  in  fervor  till  it 
reached  the  ultimatum  of  true  love.  But  Louis  was 
designed  for  the  church,  and  the  church  did  not  admit 
of  any  matrimonial  obligations  in  the  priesthood.  The 
two  lovers,  for  such  it  appears  we  must  now  consider 


494  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

them,  well  knew  that  every  obstacle  would  be  interposed 
fo  defeat  their  aspirations  ;  that  the  church  would  never 
consent  to  release  Louis  from  his  vows  or  his  obligations 
however  his  friends  might  feel  as  to  his  relinquishing 
his  bright  prospects  of  advancement  to  ecclesiastical 
dignity.  A  sort  of  sluggish  opposition  was  for  sometime 
encountered,  and  the  course  of  true  love  here  as  in  many 
similar  cases  ran  far  from  smoothly.  But  finally  the 
interference  became  more  pronounced,  and  it  was  appa- 
rent to  the  devoted  twain  that  success  could  only  be 
secured  by  prompt  and  spirited  action.  Into  details, 
however,  it  is  not  necessary  here  to  enter,  and  it  need 
only  be  added  that  — 

Louis  and  Hortense  suddenly  and  mysteriously  disap- 
peared from  Montreal.  Whither  they  had  gone,  or  the 
particular  circumstances  attending  their  disappearance, 
whether  they  had  left  together,  or  even  proceeded  in  the 
same  direction,  no  one  in  the  convent  or  the  college 
knew ;  or  at  least  every  one  pretended  not  to  know. 

A  couple  of  years  after  the  flight,  if  such  it  must  be 
called,  of  the  two  lovers,  if  such  they  are  to  be  called  — 
Louis  and  Hortense  —  from  Montreal,  they  are  found 
in  the  old  province  of  Languedoc,  in  the  north  of  France, 
in  a  cozy  village  home,  surrounded  by  cultivated  society 
and  enjoying  the  esteem  of  all  around.  It  can  readily 
be  understood  why  they  took  up  their  abode  in  France, 
for  it  was  the  native  land  of  Louis  ;  and  the  Edict  of 
Nantes  being  yet  in  full  force,  he  would  fear  no  ecclesi- 
astical molestation.  There,  in  dreamy  old  Languedoc, 
in  a  charming  cottage  home,  within  the  summer  evening 
shadow  of  the  ancient  church  tower,  were  Conrad  and 
his  twin  sister  born,  a  merry  chime  of  the  musical  bells 
announcing  the  happy  event  to  the  expectant  villagers. 
Not  many  days  after,  however,  those  same  bells,  in 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  495 

mournful  tones  announced  the  decease  of  Louis.  Hor- 
tense  was  a  widow  and  her  babes  were  fatherless. 

The  little  family  seem  to  have  been  supplied  with 
means  sufficient  for  every  comfort  if  not  for  living  in 
luxury.  It  was  a  home  of  contentment,  serenity  and 
endearment.  But  changes  must  come,  and  every  house- 
hold must  have  its  painful  separations. 

At  an  early  age  Conrad  was  sent  over  for  education 
in  a  German  university.  And  it  was  probably  there  that 
he  imbibed  those  mystic  sentiments,  which,  combining 
with  his  naturally  poetical,  romantic  and  dreamy  nature, 
produced  a  devout  enthusiast.  He  and  his  sister  must 
have  had  an  intense  affection  for  each  other.  Whether 
he  completed  his  education  before  leaving  Germany,  or 
came  here,  intending  to  return  and  resume  his  studies, 
it  would  be  fruitless  to  inquire.  But  what  could  have 
been  his  purpose  in  visiting  this  secluded  nook,  at  all .-' 
It  will  readily  be  conjectured  that  he  may  have  been 
allured  by  a  strong  desire  to  inform  hiinself  on  certain 
interesting  points  of  family  history,  of  which,  most 
likely,  he  had  received  inklings  at  the  fireside  in  Lan- 
guedoc.  But  the  touching  story  of  his  death  has  been 
told.  And  in  his  brief  history  may  be  learned  the  story 
of  an  Enthusiast  of  the  true  German  type. 

As  a  fit  closing  to  the  present  volume,  the  following 
passages  are  introduced  from  the  remarks  of  a  speaker 
at  the  banquet  held  on  the  occasion  of  the  celebration 
of  the  two  hundred  and  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Third  Plantation,  to  wit,  on  the  17th 
of  June,  1879.  Embodying,  as  they  do,  a  running  sketch 
of  the  life  of  Rev.  Mr.  Whiting,  to  whom  the  Planta- 
tion was  so  much  indebted,  and  in  compliment  to  whom 
the  subsequent  name  of  the  territory  itself  was  bestowed, 


49<3  THE  ANCHOR  TAVERN. 

they  cannot  be  deemed  inappropriate.  The  regular  toast 
to  which  the  remarks  were  in  response,  was  in  these 
words : 

The  Third  Plantation: — Founded  by  an  earnest,  intelligent,  devout 
people,  who  sought  in  the  new  world  independence.  In  spite  of  rough 
surroundings  the  early  settlers  led  happy,  wise,  affluent  lives,  and,  dying, 
left  behind  fragrant  memories,  which  have  incited  their  successors  to 
worthy  deeds. 

The  speaker  then  proceeded  to  say : 

When  it  was  intimated  to  me,  Mr.  Mayor,  that  I  might  be  called  on 
to  make  a  few  remarks  on  this  interesting  occasion,  I  felt  that  if  I  were, 
it  would  be  hardly  courteous  to  remain  entirely  silent,  and  endeavored  to 
fix  upon  some  circumstance  in  our  perhaps  not  particularly  eventful 
history,  that  might  indicate  to  whom  and  to  what  we  are  justified  in 
looking,  in  an  especial  manner,  for  the  attainment  of  the  satisfactory 
position,  which,  after  two  hundred  and  fifty  years,  we  find  ourselves 
occupying.  And  the  result  will  appear  in  what  I  now  proceed  briefly 
to  offer. 

June,  the  loveliest  month  of  the  New  England  year,  is  marked  as  that 
in  which  the  settlement  began.  How  different  from  the  surly  December 
that  howled  over  the  sea-worn  pilgrims  who  first  landed  on  the  Plymouth 
shore.  Here,  the  face  of  nature  was  beautiful  in  its  very  wildness,  and 
the  balmy  air  lent  elasticity  to  the  spirits  of  the  settlers,  and  energy  to 
their  strong  arms. 

Three  years  after  the  first  tents  were  pitched,  that  is,  in  June,  1632,  the 
little  church  was  formed,  an  event  in  those  days  of  the  first  importance. 
And  in  the  very  brief  time  it  would  be  proper  for  me  to  occupy,  I  propose 
to  speak  chiefly  of  the  reverend  New  England  father,  who  was  the  second 
minister,  and  he  through  whom  the  Plantation  received  its  present  name. 
I  shall  at  once  be  understood  as  alluding  to  the  Rev.  Samuel  Whiting, 
who  for  more  than  forty  years  was  identified  with  the  best  interests  of  the 
settlement.  May  we  not,  then,  call  him  the  Father  of  Lynn,  as  Mather, 
in  view  of  his  exalted  piety,  was  wont  to  call  him  the  Angel  of  Lynn  ?  It 
was  just  two  hundred  years  ago,  that  is,  in  1679,  that  the  remains  of  that 
good  old  man  were  laid  away  to  everlasting  repose  in  the  then  quiet 
village  burial  place,  overshadowed  by  ancient  forest  trees,  but  now  looked 
down  upon  by  stately  edifices,  and  surrounded  by  a  busy  multitude.  The 
spot  where  he  rests  is  marked  by  a  simple  granite  shaft,  reared  a  few 
years  since  by  the  Hon.  William  Whiting,  of  Boston,  a  direct  descendant, 
who  Ifimself  rendered  such  eminent  service  to  our  government  during  the 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  49/ 

most  perilous  period  of  the  late  war  of  the  Rebellion,  and  who  has  him- 
self been  since  called  to  join  his  honored  ancestor  in  the  land  whence 
there  is  no  return. 

Who  can  be  deemed  more  worthy  of  remembrance  on  an  occasion  like 
this?  —  not  only  because  of  his  profound  learning,  serene  temper,  and 
well  rounded  christian  character,  but  likewise  for  his  liberal  principles, 
political  sagacity,  and  untiring  efforts  to  advance  the  public  prosperity 
and  elevate  the  public  name  ;  characteristics  which  gave  him  prominence 
among  the  leading  public  men,  and  large  influence  in  the  colonial  councils. 
Who  can  estimate  the  result  of  his  well-directed  efforts  for  that  long  series 
of  years,  in  shaping  public  polity  and  private  enterprise  ?  Or  who  indeed 
can  estimate  the  effect  of  his  labors  even  on  the  institutions  of  our  own 
day? 

It  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that  many  of  the  clergy  of  that  day  had  very 
great  influence  in  the  direction  of  public  affairs.  Indeed  it  was  common 
for  the  executive,  legislative  and  even  the  judicial  authorities  to  apply  to 
them  for  the  solution  of  intricate  questions  and  the  determining  of  prin- 
ciples. Many,  if  not  most  of  them,  had  been  ministers  in  the  Church 
of  England,  and  were  men  of  learning  and  deep  thought.  The  very 
experiences  that  induced  their  emigration,  arose  generally  from  their 
advanced  views  of  human  rights  and  political  liberty.  It  is  to  be  remem- 
bered, too,  that  at  that  period  the  settlement  of  a  minister  was,  under 
ordinary  circumstances,  expected  to  be  for  life ;  not  a  mere  temporary 
sojourn  as  is  so  frequently  the  case  in  our  day.  And  it  will  readily  be 
perceived  how  much  greater  the  opportunity  of  the  faithful  pastor  then 
was  to  inaugurate  and  sustain  pursuits  calculated  to  be  permanently  bene- 
ficial. Then,  the  clergyman  had  the  same  inducement  to  be  diligent  and 
trusting  that  the  husbandman  has  in  his  vocation  —  delight  in  watching 
the  upspringing  from  the  good  seeds  he  scatters  and  repose  in  the  well- 
founded  expectation  of  receiving  in  harvest  time  the  reward  for  his  toil 
and  faith. 

No  sooner  had  Mr.  Whiting  commenced  his  ministrations  to  the 
church  here,  than  the  discordant  elements  which  had  disturbed  it,  and 
the  whole  little  community  as  well,  were  harmonized,  and  old  and  young 
gathered  around  him  in  delightful  sympathy  and  trust  —  exemplifying 
the  truth  that  mental  strength  coupled  with  genial  manners,  is  potent  to 
secure  confidence  and  love. 

A  few  words  on  the  personal  history  of  Mr.  Whiting :  He  descended 
from  a  long  line  of  honorable  ancestors,  and  was  a  son  of  Sir  John 
Whiting,  Mayor  of  old  Boston  in  1600  and  1608.  His  brother  John  was 
also  Mayor  of  Boston  in  1626,  1633,  1644  and  1645,  ^'"''^  '^'^  brother 
James  was  Mayor  in  1640. 

The  subject  of  these  remarks  was  born  in  1597,  and  at  the  age  of  six- 
teen was  entered  at  Emanuel  College.     He  was  an  apt  scholar ;  received 

32 


498  THE    ANCHOR    TAVERN. 

the  degree  of  A.  B.  in  1616,  and  ihat  of  A.  M.  in  1620.  Afterwards  he 
received  the  degree  of  D.  D.  His  father  died  while  he  was  in  college, 
leaving  a  very  considerable  estate.  Emanuel  College,  as  is  well  known 
to  readers  of  Puritan  history,  was  called  "  the  hot-bed  of  Puritanism," 
and 'it  was  while  there,  no  doubt,  that  he  imbibed  those  principles  which 
grew  with  his  growth  and  strengthened  with  his  strength  —  those  prin- 
ciples which  so  strongly  marked  his  whole  after  life.  It  is  well  to  observe 
that  what  were  known  as  the  Puritan  principles  of  that  day,  had  reference 
not  only  to  church  but  also  to  state.  It  was  not  only  the  purpose  to 
purify  the  church  of  obnoxious  rites  and  ceremonies,  but  also  to  free  the 
people  from  governmental  oppression  and  wrong  —  to  circumscribe  the 
royal  prerogatives,  defend  against  the  encroachments  and  reduce  the 
privileges  of  the  aristocracy ;  in  short,  to  break  down  every  barrier  to 
the  reasonable  exercise  of  individual  right,  freedom  and  responsibility. 

Mr.  Whiting  took  orders  in  the  Church  of  England  soon  after  gradu- 
ating, and  became  chaplain  in  a  refined  and  wealthy  family  in  Norfolk. 
After  remaining  there  about  three  years,  apparently  in  great  prosperity 
and  happiness,  he  accepted  a  rectorship  in  Lynn  Regis,  as  colleague 
of  Rev.  Dr.  Price.  In  that  situation  he  remained  three  years,  adminis- 
tering his  office  acceptably,  excepting  his  refusal  to  conform  to  certain 
required  usages  in  the  established  church  service ;  in  brief,  he  was  a 
Nonconformist,  subjected  himself  to  the  censure  of  the  Bishop  of  Nor- 
wich, and  was  induced  to  resign  and  remove  to  the  parish  of  Sljirbec, 
near  Boston,  where  he  again  filled  the  office  of  rector,  and  again  came 
under  censure  for  nonconforming  practices. 

In  1636  his  situation  became  so  uncomfortable  that  he  resigned  and 
prepared  to  emigrate  to  America.  The  parish  church  in  which  he 
officiated,  at  Slirbec,  is  still  standing,  surrounded  by  the  graves  of  those 
to  whom  he  so  many  years  ago  ministered.  It  is  described  as  "  a  simple 
and  unpretending  structure,  planted  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river  Witham, 
whose  sluggish  waters  have  sadly  endangered  its  foundations." 

The  same  year,  1636,  in  which  he  resigned  his  charge  at  Shirbec,  he 
emigrated  to  America,  arriving  in  May.  He  does  not  appear  to  have 
greatly  enjoyed  the  voyage  hither,  as  he  remarks  that  he  would  "  much 
rather  have  undergone  six  weeks'  imprisonment,  for  a  good  cause,  than 
six  weeks  of  such  terrible  seasiclcness."  A  few  months  after  his  arrival, 
November  8,  1636,  at  the  age  of  thirty-nine,  he  was  installed  minister 
of  the  little  church  gathered  here. 

Mr.  Whiting  was  twice  married.  His  second  partner,  she  who  accom- 
panied him  hither,  could  claim  a  family  descent  more  illustrious  than  his, 
for  she  could  trace  her  lineage,  without  a  break,  to  William  the  Con- 
queror. She  was  a  sister  of  Oliver  St.  John,  the  Chief  Justice  of  England 
during  the  Commonwealth,  and  own  cousin  to  Oliver  Cromwell.  But  all 
the  incidents  of  birth  and  family  on  Iris  and  her  part,  incidents  which  to 


FIFTIETH    ANNIVERSARY.  499 

so  many,  even  here  and  among  us,  possess  a  peculiar  charm,  seem  to 
have  weighed  nothing  in  competition  with  their  strong  sense  of  duty. 

The  young  couple,  as  they  then  were,  apparently  without  one  longing 
look  behind,  left  the  bright  scenes,  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  their  early 
homes,  crossed  the  stormy  ocean,  and  bravely  entered  this  western  wilder- 
ness, with  stout  hearts  and  strong  arms,  to  fight  the  battle  of  civilization 
against  a  savage  dispensation  —  to  subdue  a  wild  and  ungracious  soil,  to 
establish  the  arts  of  civilized  life  where  only  the  rudest  devices  to  supply 
the  most  common  wants  of  man  had  been  known.  Nobly  did  they 
address  themselves  to  their  chosen  work,  and  great  was  their  success. 
The  beneficial  results  of  their  settling  here  did  not  by  any  means  end 
with  their  lives.  Children  were  born  to  them,  and  children's  children 
have  appeared  in  almost  every  path  of  usefulness,  and  adorned  our  whole 
history.  The  entire  nation  has  received  benefits  hardly  capable  of  being 
over-estimated.  Some  of  their  descendants  have  been  conspicuous  in 
theological,  scientific  and  literary  callings ;  cihers  have  filled  useful  and 
honorable  positions  in  the  national  civil  service ;  others  again  have  risen 
to  eminence  in  the  military  profession.  One  needs  only  to  glance  over  a 
dictionary  of  American  biography  to  learn  how  meritorious  the  family 
has  proved. 

How  few  of  us  realize  what  lasting,  what  cumulative  blessings  may 
spring  from  such  parentage  ?  And  the  remembrance  of  such  benefactions 
is  useful  as  an  incentive  to  like  good  works  in  others,  as  well  as  a  tribute 
of  gratitude,  which,  though  it  cannot  affect  one  whose  earthly  labors  have 
dosed,  must  yet  have  a  favorable  influence  on  the  living.  And  what 
topic  can  be  more  proper  for  a  day  like  this,  than  that  which  illustrates 
the  lives  of  such  benefactors  ?  Who  among  us  of  this  generation,  will 
prove  as  worthy  of  remembrance,  when  another  couple  of  centuries  have 
rolled  away  ?  It  is  said  that  he  who  has  no  respect  for  the  memory  of  his 
ancestors,  deserves  not  the  respect  of  posterity.  And  most  assuredly,  a 
community  that  has  no  grateful  remembrance  of  its  benefactors  is  unde- 
serving of  continued  prosperity. 

Mr.  Whiting,  as  might  readily  be  supposed,  took  great  interest  in  the 
education  of  the  youth  of  the  town,  and,  together  with  his  accomplished 
wife,  did  every  thing  possible  to  refine  the  manners  and  elevate  the 
condition  of  every  class.  He  took  unwearied  pains  to  advance  every 
material  interest  —  to  improve  the  husbandry,  the  fisheries,  the  mechanic 
arts  —  indeed  all  branches  required  for  the  supply  of  current  and  pros- 
pective wants.  And  all  the  time  he  never  lost  sight  of  opportunities  to 
promote  the  broader  interests  of  the  little  community,  vigilantly  guarding 
against  the  imposition  of  wrongful  burdens  by  the  General  Court,  through 
misinformation  or  selfish  appliances,  and  laboring  in  every  honest  way  to 
elevate  and  dignify  her  name.  The  town  grew  rapidly  during  the  forty 
years  he  so  devoted  to  her  concerns.     And  it  was  a  healthy  growth. 


500 


THE  ANCHOR  TAVERN. 


I  have  selected  Mr.  Whiting  from  among  the  other  meritorious  indi- 
viduals who  labored  so  zealously  and  so  well  in  laying  the  foundations 
of  our  social  fabric,  for  the  reasons  already  indicated.  But  I  would  not 
detract  from  the  praise  due  those  other  pioneers  who  made  so  many 
sacrifices  and  achieved  such  enduring  conquests.  Many  were  worthy 
of  the  highest  commendation  ;  but  time  will  not  allow  of  a  step  beyond 
the  proposed  limit ;  no,  not  even  to  pay  a  passing  tribute  to  my  own 
ancestors,  who  were  among  the  earliest  here  —  for  I  have  the  proud 
claim  of  direct  descent  from  the  first  white  child  born  within  the  territory 
of  the  famous  old  Third  Plantation.  Most  certainly  merited  praise 
bestowed  on  one  individual,  cannot,  excepting  possibly  in  a  mean  and 
jealous  mind,  be  viewed  as  silent  censure  on  another  but  unnamed 
worthy. 

And  now,  in  closing,  allow  me  to  repeat  that  it  was  in  1679,  two  centu- 
ries ago,  the  present  year,  that  that  venerable  New  England  father  who 
indeed  may,  Vv-ith  unquestionable  propriety,  be  reckoned  among  the 
foremost  of  the  early  benefactors  and  true  citizens  of  our  beloved  home, 
was  called  away  from  his  earthly  labors.  And  I  again  ask,  is  it  not  highly 
becoming  that  he  should  be  gratefully  remembered  on  this  special  occa- 
sion? And  is  not  this  a  fitting  sentiment  to  be  expressed  as  such 
memories  are  summoned  up  ? 

The  Rev.  Samuel  Whiting:  May  the  memory  of  his  virtues  and  his 
labors  for  the  good  of  our  beloved  home,  in  her  infart  days,  never  cease 
to  inspire  every  son  and  daughter  to  do  their  utmost  for  the  continuance 
of  her  prosperity  and  good  name. 


Witt's  Rock.    Now  called  Lover's  Leap. 


